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Leah Weiss 












I Object 


By 

LEAH WEISS 



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Printed for the Author by 

THE CAXTON PRESS 

CINCINNATI 

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C 8M V 



Copyright, 1923, by 
LEAH WEISS 




IX vr 



Printed in the United States of America 
The Caxton Press 



DEDICATED 

TO 

THE MEMORY OF 
MY DEPARTED HUSBAND 

JMexaufor pbiss 


L. W, 





CONTENTS 


Prologue 

Page 

11 

Chapter I 

Drifting ------- 

27 

Chapter IT 

Mystery Girl - 

- 33 

Chapter III 

Marie Discovers She Has Been Deceived 

- 37 

Chapter IV 

Marie Finds A Champion 

- 43 

Chapter V 

Death of Elynor’s Mother 

47 

Chapter VI 

Elynor’s Brother Disappears 

- 51 

Chapter VII 

Dr. Isaac M. Wise - - - 

- 55 

Chapter VIII 

Michael’s Mother Objects 

61 

Chapter IX 

Sorrow and Joy - 

67 

Chapter X 

The Reckoning .... - 

i 

- 71 


8 


CONTENTS 


Chapter XI Page 

Looking Backward.79 

Chapter XII 

Marie’s Father Appears - - - - 111 

Chapter XIII 

Marie Asks Forgiveness - - - - 124 

Chapter XIV 

Elynor’s Martyrdom.131 

Chapter XV 

The Awakening.152 


List of Illustrations 

Leah Weiss,. Frontispiece 

Facing page 

Rabbi Alexander Weiss, 28 

Michael and Elynor’s Wedding, 66 

Elynor Sings Babe O’ Mine to Michael, - 148 
The Sacrifice of Abraham, - - - 166 
























PROLOGUE 


Winifred Rosalye Stanton was about to step into 
a Rolls-Royce car, that her father had given 
her as a wedding gift, when her attention was 
attracted to the magnificent specimen of manhood 
who was standing with a deferential air, waiting 
for her to enter. To the car, a thing of beauty, 
was added the chauffeur with the air and ap¬ 
pearance of the descendant of kings. She wondered 
vaguely where she had seen him before and then re¬ 
membered that on Derby day, Sir Chesterfield had 
taken her to Churchill Downs, and during luncheon, 
her attention was called to this man who was assigned 
to serve at their table. She recalled that her father 
had been telling one of his friends that he had raised 
this boy and that his grandmother was one of those 
devoted, faithful slaves who was part of the house¬ 
hold of this aristocratic, Southern family. 

Winifred was particularly interested, inasmuch as 
she remembered that her old mammy had a little 
granddaughter whom she played with when she was 
a child and she had often marveled at the contrast 
this sister and brother presented. The sister was 
as black as the ace of spades and the brother was 
often mistaken for a white child. She was meditating 
on the problem presented to her by this man at the 
wheel, and his square shoulders and dignified car¬ 
riage brought to her mind the man she was to marry 
on the morrow. Her mental comment took the form 

11 



12 


PROLOGUE 


of an inquiry—“By what process of evolution had 
this man who seemed but of the jungle of yesterday, 
suddenly reached this state of perfection?” It took 
very close observation to detect the slight tinge of 
the darker hue which proclaimed him the offspring 
of foreign extraction. 

Then again her mind reverted to Sir Chester¬ 
field. The image of the man rose before her, who 
was to be her husband before nightfall of the fol¬ 
lowing day. It would be what society calls a mar¬ 
riage of convenience. Her father’s millions were to 
be exchanged for a title and Sir Alexander Gordon 
Chesterfield would make her milady. 

Sir Chesterfield with his inevitable drawl—his mon¬ 
ocle forever raised inquiringly to his eye—his caddy 
with his golf sticks seemingly ever at his side—his 
unchanging, expressionless face—the thought of him 
bi ought to Winifred a sickening revolt at the fact 
that she must spend the rest of her life with this 
human automaton; this cold, passionless excuse of a 
man. Winifred almost felt that water, and not red 
blood, filled his veins. 

Kentucky had thrown open her hospitable arms to 
honor America’s sons and the World War heroes, 
and to Louisville fell the good fortune to act as host 
to the illustrious hero, General Pershing, and those 
who made up his retinue. The Seelbach Hotel, in 
which was vested the pride of Kentucky, embellished 
its artistic furnishings—its rare paintings—its Meiss¬ 
ner china—its exquisitely delicate Bohemian glass¬ 
ware—by adding the rich and deep-dyed colors of 
the red, the white, and the blue, and with welcome 
on the doorstep, and palms and flowers entwined in 
the passageways, forming an arcade which led to 


PROLOGUE 


13 


the banquet hall—on this memorable occasion, Wini¬ 
fred and Sir Chesterfield met and plighted their 
troth. 

Winifred wondered since whether it was a part of 
the atmosphere of this exciting event that made 
Sir Chesterfield appear different in her eyes. She 
recalled that when he caught sight of her the monocle 
had dropped from his eye, and the beautiful, clear, 
gray eyes looked at her admiringly—the light flaxen 
hair thrown back carelessly from the aristocratic, 
kindly face, impressed her with its luxuriance, but 
somehow the following day when he came to her 
father to ask formally for her hand, his manner was 
so correct that the whole man seemed transformed, 
and with the enthusiasm of the day before evapo¬ 
rated, she could not help but feel a distaste for this 
union. 

The weeks that followed the betrothal, strength¬ 
ened her in the knowledge that Sir Chesterfield 
would never for a moment forget that he came from 
a long line of ancestry, whose standards he must 
always live up to, and so if a heart throbbed under 
that calm exterior, she had not as yet succeeded in 
discovering it. 

Then bitterly she thought of her girlhood days— 
her dreams of the ideal of the man who would some 
day take up his life with her and perfect God’s plan 
of a perfect union—when love only would be a factor 
to make them as one; and to-morrow would end that 
dream, and the kiss at the altar would consecrate 
her to a duty which she knew would only bring her 
a coronet. 

She had a mad longing to make this day all her 
own—to order the chauffeur to take her into the heart 


14 


PROLOGUE 


of the woods among the wild, untamed creatures, 
who knew nothing but the joy of living. 

She was so busy with her thoughts that she had 
not noticed that William seemed to be having a 
little trouble with the wheel. Some slight imper¬ 
fection made it necessary to stop at the office of 
the firm to make an adjustment. The trouble was 
more serious than William at first thought, and as it 
would be a matter of hours to correct the defect, 
they were asked to leave the car and take a neat 
little roadster for the shopping expedition that Wini¬ 
fred had planned. 

When they drove away, Winifred heard herself 
saying to the chauffeur, “William, I am not going 
to shop to-day—take me out to the country—drive 
fast.” A sudden jolt threw her violently against 
the side of the car. “Miss, I am sorry—that was a 
bad place in the road,” William apologized. 

She was just a bit disconcerted, and then as 
strange, wild thoughts began to race through her 
brain, she asked herself if she was going mad. What 
evil force had taken possession of her on this, the 
eve of her wedding day? She felt the urge to let 
this excitement wear off by some feat of daring— 
of courting danger—and with the blood pounding 
in her veins and every nerve tense in her body, she 
gave the order to William to “step on it.” 

William looked very much amazed. He and Wini¬ 
fred were children together, but even as a child, he 
never for one moment was permitted to forget that 
she was his master’s daughter, and in her imperious 
fashion she commanded respect and worship from 
all who knew her. This madcap girl to-day, that he 
was driving, risking not only her own life but his 


PROLOGUE 


15 


also, was not the Miss Stanton that she appeared to 
be when she returned from boarding school. 

William’s education had been rather complete. 
Mr. Stanton had planned to make him an over¬ 
seer in his cotton plant, and while he had never pre¬ 
sumed to take advantage of the opportunities of¬ 
fered him through and because of his mental train¬ 
ing, somehow to-day, this reckless girl had opened 
up to him a new vista, and at her command to 
"step on it,” the questioning look on his face brought 
a tinge of embarrassed color to Winifred’s cheeks. 

The speedy little car seemed as if it were flying 
through the air. The hum of the motor was sing¬ 
ing in Winifred’s ears, and the road stretched ahead 
of them like a long, gray ribbon. As far as the eye 
could see it was untraveled, and fortunately for them 
they had the right of way. William’s attention 
was now centered on the wheel—the slightest in¬ 
attention would bring disaster. He never before 
felt his inequality as he did at this moment. He was 
powerless—helpless—a word of suggestion or ad¬ 
vice would be sharply rebuked or possibly would 
lead to a more severe punishment, should Winifred 
resent his interference. All he could do was to pray 
inwardly that she would come to her senses before 
it was too late. 

While these thoughts were going through Wil¬ 
liam’s mind they had almost reached the bend in the 
road. Winifred was saying something, but the words 
were carried off by the wind. William felt a light touch 
on his hand—and then, a crash and darkness. 

When William opened his eyes the car was some 
distance away from him, on its side, and Wini¬ 
fred was lying about ten feet away. Slowly he strug- 


16 


PROLOGUE 


gled to his feet and found that with the exception 
of a slight scalp wound he was not seriously in¬ 
jured, but he could see that Winifred was hurt. A 
growing fear clutched at his heart; the silent figure 
lying on the ground motionless, seemed dead. Great 
God! what would he do? 

He turned to see if there was a house nearby, 
and saw, running towards him down the road, 
two men, one carrying a pail of water and the 
other some bandages. Upon a little hillock stood 
what appeared to be an inn and when the men 
reached William, they told him they had wit¬ 
nessed the accident from the window and that the 
owner had sent the water and bandages. 

William dipped a towel in the cold water and laid 
it on Winifred’s face, but his efforts to revive her 
were futile. Failing in this, he lifted her in his arms 
and carried her to the inn. When they arrived the 
inn-keeper had already telephoned for a physician. 
William was shown to a room and laid Wini¬ 
fred carefully on the divan. She opened her eyes 
with a moan of pain and William, glancing down at 
her slipper, saw that the buckle had embedded 
itself in her tender flesh. The white, lacerated flesh 
gave William a shock that was almost physical 
pain. He knew the wise thing to do was to remove 
the slipper immediately before the foot began to swell, 
and this he did tenderly. He spoke no word while 
performing this act, but Winifred felt a tear drop on 
the wounded spot. 

When the doctor arrived William discreetly left 
the room and Winifred noticed that there was a look 
of reproach in William’s eyes. The look haunted 
her. After the doctor had dressed her wound and 


PROLOGUE 


17 


examined her carefully, he found her injuries minor 
and told her that only a miracle had saved her. 
She was badly shaken up and he advised that she 
stay at the inn that night and gave her an opiate 
to make sleep possible and relieve the pain in her 
foot. 

Winifred asked the doctor to tell William to get in 
touch with her family, and she was just dozing 
off when the chauffeur appeared in the doorway and 
told her that her father and fiance would be there 
almost immediately. 

Winifred kept looking at William while he was 
talking, and somehow that look of tender reproach 
remained fixed in her consciousness, but she felt 
a delicate sense of rest overcome her and she slowly 
closed her eyes. 


The deft hands of the maid were putting the 
finishing touches to Winifred’s wedding gown and she 
was adjusting a stray lock that had escaped from the 
orangeblossom wreath that held her veil in place. 
Faintly came to her ears the chimes that announced 
that the arrangements had been completed for the 
wedding ceremony. Just a short time and her father 
would lead her up the aisle and give her to the man 
of her choice. From a window overlooking the serv¬ 
ants quarters she caught a glimpse of the barn gayly 
decorated with bunting and a band of youngsters 
playing popular tunes. Winifred smilingly looked 
on, remembering that her father had consented that 
William’s sister should be married that same day, 
and that would give the servants an opportunity 

to get more excitement out of something that they 
2 



18 


PROLOGUE 


had a personal interest in. Through the open door 
of the little cottage, not far from the barn, Winifred 
saw the preparations going on for this other bride 
and the hearty peals of laughter ringing through 
the air, brought home to her forcibly the gulf that 
stretched between these children of nature who had 
not progressed and who had thrown the burden of 
responsibility on the shoulders of their employers. 

Those who remained in the employ of their former 
masters, when freedom came to them, continued to 
enjoy the comforts and benefits that the landed 
proprietors had to offer, and so Mr. Stanton’s plan¬ 
tation boasted of keeping together whole families 
who served with a great deal of devotion and loyalty. 

Old Uncle George Washington, sitting in front of 
the cabin door, was the great-great-grandfather 
of the bride, and around the cabin fire he would 
ofttimes draw a crowd with bulging eyes and 
gaping mouths, to listen to tales of the good old 
days of long ago. 

Winifred recalled one story in particular which 
she, too, had often heard when a child. He used 
to start off in this manner: 

“Ma HIT Missy—you sho would be su’prised if 
you seen dat George Washington when he crossed 
over on all dat ice on da Delaware. Mistah Benja¬ 
min Franklin was a pushin’ da boat along and Mistah 
Alexander Hamilton, he got out and pushed da boat 
when it couldn’t go no moh; and dat cake of ice 
dat he was standin’ on—it sho done froze his feet, 
and when he pulled his boot off dat night, he found a 
great big fish had crawled in. Dey sho was glad, Missy, 
’cause dey didn’n have nothin’ to eat dat night, and 
Mistah George Washington, he built a fiah wid his 
own hands, and dey called me in to fry da fish. 


PROLOGUE 


19 


But you know, Missy, dey was somethin’ awful queer 
about dat fish; dere was a hundred soldiers and one 
fish. What you s’pose dey was goin’ to do ’bout it, 
Missy? Well, you jus’ come closer and I’ll tell you. 
Dey all got down on dere knees and dey raised dere 
faces to da sky and prayed de Lawd to multiply 
dat fish, and, Missy, you think dat’s all? Dey prayed 
dat de loaf of bread dat was stale and moldy would 
grow into a great, big, fat raisin bread, and, Missy, 
dere was a great big apparition ’peared in da sky 
and dere came tumblin’ down into de pan thou¬ 
sands and thousands of fish, and, Missy, all de sta’s 
had opened up and all de lil’l sta’fishes bro’t a loaf 
down in dere moufs. Yes, sah, Abraham Lincoln 
told em dat he was cornin’ down on earth out of de 
sky and was goin’ to set us all free. O’ course, 
Missy, I didn’ want to be free—yo’ know youse all 
was too good to me, but dem other niggahs dey was 
mighty glad.” 

Winifred would walk away with great big ques¬ 
tioning eyes and ask her mother if old Uncle Washing¬ 
ton was telling the truth, but mother would always 
laugh at Winifred and tell her when she grew older she 
could read all about it and find out for herself. Wini¬ 
fred was still laughing at some of the comic reminis¬ 
cences of this happy, carefree people, when she saw 
old Aunt Dinah staggering under a pail filled with 
fried chicken. One of the little ragamuffins grabbed 
a piece of the chicken and Aunt Dinah dropped the 
pail,—made a wild dash—caught the little rogue 
and gave him a good walloping. 

Some of the other Negroes were stringing lanterns 
and the preparations for the feast were in full swing 
when Sir - Chesterfield came in—kissed Winifred 
lightly on the cheek, and around her neck he placed 


20 


PROLOGUE 


his wedding gift, a priceless string of gems, woith 
a king’s ransom. She was looking at them admiringly, 
when the door opened and in came the bridesmaids, 
twelve exotic flowers, each of them dressed in the 
colors representing a different flower, and followed 
by the maid of honor. 

First came the little Daisy laying a token of 
love at her feet—and then the Violet blue spoke 
of love so true—the Orchid rare of love brought its 
share—the sweet Tearose enveloped her with its 
fragrance—the majestic Lily added a touch of dig¬ 
nity—the American Beauty mingled its rich red 
coloring with her heart throbs—the Pansy shyly 
unfolded its petals—the Carnation in rosy pink clad, 
led Sweet Pea by the hand and the Naicissus sweet, 
with its cloying breath intoxicated Golden Rod, 
whose nodding head was weighted down with Smilax 
and encircled Winifred around about, as Geranium 
helped Aster tie the knot. 

Winifred’s mother came in on her father’s arm— 
her mother kissed her and, having rearranged the 
folds of her wedding gown, stood off admir¬ 
ingly surveying her bridal veil with its priceless 
point de Venice lace. “Winifred, darling, you would 
grace any manor,” said her mother, “and I know 
that Sir Chesterfield will make you very happy. 
We met him as he was coming out of your room and 
the poor dear was wiping his eyes and told us you 
looked like a vision. He is desperately in love with 
you, Winifred, and is so excited that he does not notice 
he has forgotten his monocle.” 

Winifred’s father kissed her forehead, gave her his 
arm, and led her down the broad colonial staircase 
to the car, from which hung festoons of white rib- 


PROLOGUE 


21 


bon, held in place by the wings of the motor cap, to 
which were fastened clusters of lilies of the valley. 
A short drive took them to the church and when 
Winifred was about to cross the threshold, every¬ 
thing grew black. When her vision cleared she 
was walking up the aisle and the excited wedding 
guests had risen at her entrance, and she heard a 
great murmur of surprise on all sides. Glancing 
over her right shoulder, she caught the incredulous 
expression of one of her guests. All eyes seemed to 
be fixed on the figure beside her and she wondered 
why her father should attract and hold the attention 
of those present. She felt it would be very poor 
taste to see what caused this strange reception, so 
she kept her eyes fixed intently on the altar and the 
bishop waiting to receive them. 

The beautiful church with its stained-glass windows 
was banked with flowers. Every casement was filled 
with lilies of the valley and orchids in profusion. 
Two little flower maids were scattering rose petals 
as they continued up the aisle, and as they crushed 
them under their feet, the aroma and perfume seemed 
to mount up to the organ loft and be wafted back to 
her in the beautiful singing tones of the organ, 
which was playing Lohengrin’s wedding march. 
Into her ears reverberated again and again “Here 
comes the bride—here comes the bride”—and then 
childishly, aimlessly, at this solemn hour, she asked 
herself, “Why didn’t they say something about the 
groom?” As this thought passed through her mind, 
she began wondering what her father’s feelings were 
on this auspicious occasion. She glanced at him 
and—was she dreaming—was she going mad— 
was this a hallucination of the senses—-was someone 


22 


PROLOGUE 


playing a practical joke on her—this man at her side 
was William, her chauffeur, the brother of that other 
bride—the man whom her father had patronized! 
Why, this thing could not be! 

She remembered her ride with William; he had 
not asked her to marry him—surely her father could 
not have given his consent to this altogether absurd 
union. She tried to remember what had happened 
shortly before she gave the order to William to 
slow down the car, and when he failed to hear, she 
recalled that she wanted to attract his attention 
by putting her hand on his, and that she remembered 
nothing more. 

Evidently all this had taken place while she 
was in a subconscious state. The social order of 
things was reversed—the world had gone mad—no! 
no! she would not go through with it—she would 
defy her father—she could not—she would not be 
happy with William. She tried to cry out—she tried 
to protest—it seemed as though every faculty 
was dormant—that she could not struggle against 
this frightful thing that was about to happen to her. 

They had reached the altar steps—the bishop 
received them with a startled look on his face, 
but said nothing and began to read the wedding 
service. Would nothing happen to prevent this 
perfectly ridiculous marriage? Where would they 
go after they were married? Surely her mother 
would not permit her to live with them, and William’s 
people would call them poor white trash. Then she 
heard the bishop say, “Speak now, or forever after 
hold your peace.’* She was praying inwardly—why 
didn’t her father come to the rescue—why did he 
allow this thing to go on—they would only condemn 


PROLOGUE 


23 


her for it later,—and suddenly, as she was about 
to swoon, a voice came ringing up the aisle, “I object! 
I object! I object!” 


She saw the relieved look on the faces of the wed¬ 
ding guests; she opened her eyes and sat bolt upright, 
and standing at the divan were her father, Sir Ches¬ 
terfield, and the doctor, and she caught the last 
words, “I object to your moving her to-night—she 
will be better at the inn.” 

Sir Chesterfield fell on his knees and kissing the 
wounded spot, said, ”My poor, poor Winifred, is 
the pain very bad?” Winifred saw the boyish and 
enthusiastic face—all the polish and veneer had dis¬ 
appeared when fear for Winifred had struck at his 
heart. The thought that the accident might prove se¬ 
rious had upset his equilibrium. Winifred was hoping 
that she would never awaken from this new dream 
of the face of the man who was to be her husband. 

The doctor and her father withdrew and her awak¬ 
ening brought with it everlasting happiness. 


• H 


■, i 




































































PREFACE 

Intermarriage can be possible only if you can say 
at the altar, “Your people shall be my people and 
your God shall be my God.” 

No household can stand when God is not en¬ 
shrined in the hearts and the minds of the occupants, 
and no ties are binding or sacred that are not sanc¬ 
tioned by God and man. We are the arbiters of our 
own lives to a certain point only. So long as we do 
not interfere with the laws that govern the social 
relations existent in the human family and conflict 
with religious precepts, we are permitted to carry 
out our plan of what we think is conducive to our 
happiness and well-being, but just as soon as we show 
a tendency to wander from the course laid out for 
us, society steps in and bars the way. 

If we disregard the warning, persist in following our 
own bent, we are compelled to take a path branch¬ 
ing off from the highway—so, we isolate ourselves 
from our loved ones, and that love that caused us to 
wander away from our hearths must be almost of 
divine origin to withstand the pangs of regret that 
come to all of us when we sever the ties of blood and 
forget religious teachings. 










I Object 


Chapter I 

Drifting 

The palatial steamer was slowly making her way 
out of New York harbor. The duchess was gaz¬ 
ing into the throng ashore, trying to get a glimpse 
of her dear sister and niece. Finally she caught 
sight of them and waved a last farewell, then made 
her way to her stateroom where Elynor Markley, her 
secretary, had preceded her by a few moments. She 
found many gifts of fruit and flowers but they 
aroused little enthusiasm. She was tired from the 
effects of the unhappy events which had destroyed 
her mental peace and exhausted her physically. 

When she entered, Elynor rose to meet her. 

“Duchess,” she said, “I have a letter for you which 
I know you’ll be glad to get. Lucy has prepared 
your bath and I thought you would like to read it 
while you are resting.” 

“Dear Elynor, you are always so considerate,” 
the duchess replied gently, “I don’t know what T 
would have done without you during the last troubled 
months in which you have stood so bravely at my 
side.” 

“Why, Duchess, if I serve you for the rest of my 
life I shall never be able to repay you for your gen¬ 
erosity to me.” 

Lucy entered the room and handed the duchess 

27 



28 


I OBJECT 


her robe. While Lucy was taking down her hair 
the duchess opened the letter and was glad to see 
that it was from Maurice Gilbert. 

“Well, Elynor,” she said, “Sir Gilbert evidently 
came back from his mysterious mission. If you 
will excuse me I will read it now, I am sure he will 
have lots of interesting things to tell me.’* 

Briarcliff Manor, 
Thursday, May 18 . 

My Dear Duchess:— 

I am indeed sorry that I did not have the oppor¬ 
tunity to bid you farewell as you left on this trip, 
which will mean so much to you in your present 
frame of mind. 

I not only wish you God’s speed but hope that you 
will come back to us with joy in your heart and 
bloom on your cheeks, that your eyes will imprison 
a ray of the sun and that the moonbeams will give 
them an added luster.. Had I returned in time I 
would have accompanied you on the steamer, but 
I have promised myself that I would follow on the 
next boat if nothing occurs to upset my plans. 

I have a very great surprise for you and news 
that will give you a thrill; but, before telling you 
of this event that will bring happiness to so many of 
those who have been our lifelong friends and compan¬ 
ions, I am going to ask you to permit me to say a few 
things which I hope you will consider carefully in the 
leisure hours which are before you on this ocean voyage. 

I am very happy to know that Elynor is with 
you, and although you impose this isolation upon 
yourself you must cease assuming this attitude 
towards a situation that we have no control 
over. 

You are no longer in your first youth and, unfor¬ 
tunately, you see only the serious in life, but you went 
away to forget the dreary side and to find in new 
surroundings and happy experiences, that to you, 





Rabbi Alexander Weiss 











DRIFTING 


29 


life still holds a bright promise for the future. I 
hope you will not stand in your own light. If you will 
permit me, I will show you the fallacy of your rea¬ 
soning. 

You have been fortunate in having everything 
that is denied to many—wonderful parents, de¬ 
voted sisters and brothers, a husband few women 
had the privilege of possessing, and in him and 
through him you had the opportunity to do big things 
throughout his lifetime. When your sorrow over his 
death has faded into the past, you will again take 
up the same work. 

Where is your optimism of the past, you who saw 
good in everything? Why not feel that this was only 
a device of God to awaken in you the many faculties 
still lying dormant? If it had not been that it came 
to you at a time when the world was suffering and 
crying out for the sympathy and understanding of 
men, you would never have gone into the camps 
and there found tragedy that was the outcome of 
this great, tremendous struggle of the “survival of 
the fittest.” You would perhaps simply have re¬ 
mained at home and carried out the task assigned to 
you in your community in a small way. Instead, 
it was your great privilege to suffer with those who 
were suffering and to find yourself and realize that if 
love for you was no longer possible, a greater, a bet¬ 
ter, a diviner thing had come to take its place —that 
great love which, being impersonal, becomes divine. 

The world to-day is chaos; we need people of un¬ 
derstanding to straighten us out. You have not been 
to Europe since the war and you do not know that 
with your super-sensitive nature you will find a con¬ 
dition that will horrify you. You will wish you 
were a super-woman to impress upon the minds of 
those in power the great and desperate need of the 
nations. All eyes are turned to America—America 
who has combined with her idealism, good, sound, 
substantial principles, who is using a waiting policy 
until the nations will have agreed that they are ready 
for her to step in, and with wholesome counsel and 



30 


I OBJECT 


material aid, to bring about an adjustment to make 
a world peace possible. 

1 think I have given you enough advice for the 
moment, and I hope that you will while away the 
hours in doing the little trivial things that lessen 
the nervous strain that sapped your vitality and threw 
you into such a morbid state. 

And now I am certain that you will not only be 
astonished at what I am about to tell you, but know 
that it will take some thought on your part to lay 
out a line of conduct which will gradually bring 
the result I am hoping for. 

Michael Markley has come back to us. I know 
you will gasp. I hope Elynor will not be present 
when you read this letter, for she must be kept in 
complete ignorance of the facts until you are sure 
that she will be prepared to accept this great joy 
that has come to her after so many years of hard¬ 
ships and despair. 

I received the wire from Michael a week ago. He 
will tell you his story as he told it to me, and I envy 
you that you will be privileged in seeing the joy in 
the faces of those two beings who never expected to 
see each other again. I will tell you briefly the plans 
in which you are to play such an important part. 

We are all dreadfully afraid that the shock of the 
meeting may do Elynor more harm than good, 
and so we decided that you must draw from her 
the entire story of her first meeting with Michael 
up to the time he left her. In this way you will 
gradually prepare her by suggesting the possibility 
that Michael may be alive and perhaps longing to 
come back to her. You will instill the hope and set her 
thinking. When he suddenly appears before her his 
presence will not seem but the realization of a dream. 

I know, Duchess, that knowing Michael as slightly 
as you do, you would not recognize him now. He 
is so changed that somehow I feel that I want to 
stand at attention when speaking to him. Dear little 
Elynor, how I rejoice in this wonderful, wonderful 
thing that is about to come to her. 


DRIFTING 


31 


Michael embarked on the same steamer and has 
no fear of Elynor recognizing him. However, he 
is going to keep out of her way as much as possible. 
Toward the end of the voyage you will see sitting 
at the captain’s table a very distinguished man 
in military attire and you will know that it 
is Michael. A nod from you will indicate that 
Elynor is sufficiently prepared to meet him. I won’t 
give you any more details as I am sure you know 
just what to do and just how to act to bring about 
a happy climax. 

With my very warmest personal greetings, I am 
always Your friend, 

Maurice Gilbert. 

P. S. Harold Duane L’Amour, my nephew, is 
on his way over to take a post-graduate course at 
the Conservatoire of Music, in Paris, and I have 
written to him that you will be on the steamer, and 
if he can be of service to you, do not hesitate to call 
on him. I should feel very much gratified if you, 
in turn, will permit him to join you on the evenings 
when your time will not be occupied. I am sure you 
will enjoy a musical evening with him, as he has 
made great strides as a composer and conductor, 
and in spite of his extreme youth he has attracted 
much attention by [his extraordinary technique and 
his masterly interpretation of the Wagnerian operas. 
You will remember, Duchess, that I often spoke of 
his mother, who was my favorite sister, and who 
had married a very talented musician. She took up her 
residence in Bonne, the home of Beethoven, and at an 
early age my nephew, Harold, became a great lover of 
that illustrious master. In addition to this, he is a 
great idealist and dreamer and, on the whole, I think 
that you will only gain by trying to know him well. 

The duchess had been so engrossed in the letter 
that she had not noticed that Elynor had slipped 
from the room. Her maid was just putting the fin¬ 
ishing touches to her dinner gown when Elynor re- 


32 I OBJECT 

turned. Her color was heightened and her eyes 
were shining. 

“Duchess,” Elynor began, “I just saw a most 
distinguished officer talking with the captain. It 
seemed when I passed that he made some comment 
regarding me. Did you notice him before this, 
Duchess? I don’t know how we could have missed 
him, as I thought we saw everyone who boarded the 
steamer. I do believe he is the finest-looking man 
on the boat. Oh, Duchess, how wonderful you would 
look together. Wouldn’t it be glorious if you would 
fall in love with each other?” 

“Elynor, Elynor child, what are you talking about? 
What put such nonsense in your head? My heart 
is a sealed book. Don’t you know, Elynor, that 
'you can’t write on paper that has already been writ¬ 
ten on.’ Don’t worry about me, I am as happy as 
I ever expect to be; my one purpose now is to de¬ 
vote myself to humanity. I have put love out of 
my life and mean to help those who have been less 
fortunate than I in this world’s goods. 

“You had better dress now, Elynor; I want you 
to make yourself as attractive as possible; you know 
you may see your Prince Charming again.” 

Elynor laughed acquiescence and went into her 
room. When she came out the duchess stared at 
her in amazement. 

“Elynor, where did you get that pretty frock? 
Why I never saw you look like that before. Ah, ha! 
I think somebody has fallen in love. You may wear 
my pearls, they will suit your costume.” 

“Duchess, how well you understand me—I am 
so happy to-night,” Elynor burst out gratefully. 


Chapter II 


The Mystery Girl 

As they walked in to dinner the duchess saw 
Elynor’s eyes eagerly glancing towards the cap¬ 
tain’s table, but she was destined to disappointment; 
the handsome officer was nowhere in sight. At a 
table on the opposite side of them a party of five 
were seated. The duchess was attracted to the girl 
in the group. A chance resemblance took her back 
many years and wonderingly she tried to remember 
where she had seen that face before. She searched 
about in her mind, but failed to recognize in the beauti¬ 
ful little queenly head with its short bobbed curls, 
any member of her social set. Glancing back at 
Elynor, it seemed almost the same face accentuated 
by the lines that age gradually brings. 

Dinner was nearly finished when Elynor was at¬ 
tracted to the same group, but this time the man 
was holding her attention. He was drinking heavily 
and making himself offensive to the others at the 
table, who showed their displeasure by leaving. 
The woman, whom Elynor judged to be his wife, 
behaved shamelessly. Her gown was one of those 
flimsy affairs that were the fashion of the day, and if 
she had not been so alluring with her soft, confiding 
air and her kittenish manner, her actions would have 
been the height of vulgarity. 

Everybody was relieved when the couple left the 
salon. Elynor and the duchess took a promenade on 
3 33 


34 


I OBJECT 


the deck. The night was glorious, the vessel was sail¬ 
ing along under a blue sky studded with stars. The 
air was balmy and they both felt the joy of living 
on this flawless night at sea. As they rounded the 
deck, Elynor saw her hero of the afternoon. She 
grasped the duchess quickly by the arm and called 
her attention to the silent figure sharply outlined 
against the sky as he stood at the rail gazing out over 
the sea. 

The duchess started, so sudden and unexpected 
was the apparition. She purposely walked closer 
to the figure to attract his attention. He turned 
sharply and in the moonlight his face was like a 
cameo. The features were clear cut and a closely 
trimmed beard, which covered the lower part of his 
face, characterized him a Frenchman. 

An illustrious hero who had distinguished himself 
in the war. Conspicuously standing out from the 
rest of his decorations was the croix de guerre. His 
glance rested on Elynor, and to the duchess who 
knew what that little figure meant to him walking be¬ 
side her so quietly and modestly, his eyes told vol¬ 
umes. To Elynor they simply expressed a new in¬ 
terest. He bowed slightly and the figure seemed to 
remain motionless; the face expressed that it was 
reverence for women that brought forth the courteous 
show of good breeding. They passed on and when 
the duchess glanced at Elynor she again saw that 
the blood had colored and warmed into life the face 
that had grown impassive to an emotion which had 
ceased to be a part of her life. 

They decided to retire early, as the duchess had 
asked Elynor to tell her some of the incidents of 
her early life the following morning. She explained 


THE MYSTERY GIRL 


35 


to Elynor that they would exchange confidences and in 
that way would be able to pass the time very nicely 
together without feeling the need of the compan¬ 
ionship of strangers in whom they had no interest. 

The duchess had already retired and Elynor was 
dozing when they heard a disturbance in the suite 
opposite theirs. It sounded as though a struggle 
were taking place. The duchess had awakened 
with a start. “Elynor, are you awake?” she called. 

“What was that noise?” 

“I don’t know, I am afraid something has hap¬ 
pened,” Elynor whispered, and then to their strain¬ 
ing ears came these words, spoken in a shrill, but 
subdued voice. 

“I will do just as I please about it. No, I won’t 
give you the letter—I’m going to keep it. I tell you 
I won’t,” and then in lower tones the voice of a man 
strangled with rage. 

“If you don’t give me that letter, I’ll wring your 
neck, you drunken little fool. What do you mean 
by making a scene this hour of the night. Do you 
want to disgrace me.” 

“Disgrace you?” she answered. “You made such 
a beast of yourself to-night that we won’t be able 
to go into the dining room any more.” 

“What about you?” he answered. “You were 
absolutely shameless. All the roues on the steamer 
were following you about, and you were playing up 
to them; you were doing it to attract the attention 
of that boy that has been ogling you since we came 
aboard. Give me that letter, you little fiend. I tell 
you, you shan’t read it.” 

“I won’t, I won’t, I won’t. If you come any closer 
I’ll scream and arouse the passengers!” 


36 


I OBJECT 


After these words—silence. The duchess and 
Elynor could not go to sleep and about an hour 
later they again heard the girl sobbing bitterly. 

“You little fool, I was trying to spare you,” came 
the voice of the man. “Why did you read the letter? 
Go to sleep. I’ll talk to you in the morning.” 

It was the end of sleep for the duchess. When 
daybreak came her eyes closed wearily. Something 
clutched at her heart. She knew that the morrow 
would bring tragedy. 


Chapter III 

Marie Discovers She Has Been Deceived 

“There is no use weeping and wailing.” The words 
were swept into the duchess’ room through the 
porthole in the corridor. “The thing is done, you 
can’t go back home—your folks will not receive you. 
The best I can do for you is get you a position in a 
dance-hall; you are very pretty and I’ve found you 
do not hesitate to smoke, and when you drink you 
are adorable. You have no scruples against mak¬ 
ing a display of yourself and with your baby-blue 
eyes and golden hair I must admit you are very en¬ 
ticing. You should be a wonderful success in this 
age of jazz and froth.” 

“I have no fear for your future. Women of your 
type don’t want a home; motherhood is a burden and 
you will find plenty more like me who will pick you 
up. You will go on until the end of time and your 
kind will reproduce themselves again and again. The 
world is full of Magdalens and it will only acclaim 
you as long as your beauty lasts. If you had not 
found those letters from my wife, I would have taught 
you many things.” 

“It was unfortunate that Johnny got sick and his 
mother struck a long-forgotten cord in my heart, and 
as a result of my absent-mindedness, the letter fell 
into your hands. Why, of course, the marriage was 
a farce—you don’t imagine a real priest would have 
married us? Now come on, little girl, brace up, 

37 



38 


I OBJECT 


Why, I didn’t think you would take it that way. 
Don’t ciy so—I’ll try to make things all right. I 
am honestly sorry I made such a mess of it for you. 
You were so beautiful I just couldn’t resist. I 
haven’t always given way to my fancy. Perhaps 
that nice boy who has been following you about 
might be interested in you. Too bad he saw you so 
reckless—I’m sorry I let you diink in public.” 

For a few moments a dead silence. By this time 
Elynor had dressed and entered the duchess’ room. 

“Isn’t it a dreadful thing,” she exclaimed. “What 
are we going to do. That poor girl seems to be in 
terrible trouble; how I should love to help her, 
but we dare not interfere.” Elynor was interrupted 
by the plaintive tone of the girl. 

“Yes,” came the voice, “I have suspected for a 
long time that something was wrong. After I read 
that letter last night the bitterness of death was in 
my heart. If it were not for my dear parents I 
would have cast myself into the sea when I found 
that by dope and deception you had made me the 
plaything of an hour. When your passion would die 
I would lose the right to love. I remember the night 
you took me away; I wandered about the house all 
day gazing at the things which I know now I shall 
never see again, and my greatest regret was to leave 
dear little Billy behind. I felt as though I wanted to 
open the cage and set him free, but even he was wiser 
than I. Oftentimes I opened the door, but he would 
only perch himself on the opening, stick his little head 
out, and gaze about in a pert way. Instinct told 
him that ‘freedom’ and ‘the world’ were not for 
him. He knew enough to stay in his cage where lov¬ 
ing hands fed and cared for him. He swelled his 


MARIE HAS BEEN DECEIVED 


39 


little throat with joyous songs—and to think that 
from him I learned all the little trills that helped 
to fashion the divine gift which I possess, yet could 
not comprehend the greatest lesson he offered. Had 
I been as wise as Billy-bird and stayed in my feath¬ 
ered nest, he and I would both be intoning a note of 
gladness instead of—” 

And then the man’s voice broke in upon the plaint 
of the girl. * ‘Great God! Cut out your driveling— 
that won’t mend matters. Let’s talk it over sensibly. 
Come, get up and dress, have some breakfast, take a 
walk in the fresh air, and when you are feeling better 
we will have a long talk.” 

"If you promise to give up smoking, stop drinking, 
put on respectable clothes, I might consider marry¬ 
ing you. My wife will be glad to get rid of me; 
I haven’t made her much of a husband. There’s 
a charm about you that may hold me.” 

"No, no!” she cried, "I can’t trust you. This is 
only another one of your passionate outbursts. You 
are sorry for me. You think I have forgotten the 
incident the day you pretended to marry me. We 
were having lunch at the road house when I whispered 
my great secret into your ear. You threw me away 
from you as if an adder had stung you. The next day 
you took me to a doctor; you told me it would be 
necessary for me to take the proper precautions for 
my health in order to safeguard the valuable life which 
had been given into my keeping.” 

"What happened in the doctor’s office? You know 
better than I. I was desperately ill and had no one 
to go to. I did not dare tell mother. The knowledge 
of my wrong would have killed her. When you per¬ 
suaded me to leave home, I went willingly, hoping 


40 


I OBJECT 


that I was misjudging you, trying to believe that 
you loved me honestly.” 

“You aroused my suspicion the first time when I 
came on you unexpectedly and saw that baby’s 
picture in your hand. You told me it was your baby 
brother. And then again when I found that woman’s 
photograph in your traveling bag, I knew by the 
guilty look on your face that she was more than a 
cousin to you.” 

“All these things came to my mind when you 
asked me, the evening before we sailed, if I had heard 
from home. I knew there was something you were 
afraid of. And when you bought that revolver 
you did not have to tell me that you thought you saw 
my father. It was your guilty conscience making 
you more of a coward than you already were.” 

“I might have known that when you would not 
go to my parents and ask for their consent that it 
was something more than a difference in religious 
beliefs which made you act like a thief in the night. 
If you had loved me with that great, overwhelming 
love which you claimed, and which breaks down all 
barriers, you would have pleaded your cause with 
my father, and if he had still persisted in refusing, 
I at least could have left my home with my mother’s 
kiss on my forehead even though her tears would 
dampen my cheeks.” 

“Stop drinking, indeed! You told me that after 
I have taken a few drinks you have to exercise 
all the control at your command to keep your hands 
off me—that I send the blood racing through your 
veins; you are again primitive man and that you 
would not exchange that moment for the throne 
of a king. You told me that in those moments no 


MARIE HAS BEEN DECEIVED 


41 


power on earth could take you from me—and now 
you ask me to give up the only means I have to hold 
you. Your God is passion, and with passion no longer 
having dominion over you, and I no longer the ob¬ 
ject of that passion, I lose you! 

“As for smoking,—Bah, everybody does it! My 
gowns are modest compared with some you admire. 
There aren’t any conventions any more among ‘mod¬ 
ern women.’ I’m your product. You taught me 
all these things. You numbed my conscience. And 
now you want me to regain something that is for¬ 
ever lost. What a vile thing you are! 

“Under your training I have developed such a 
craving for admiration that I know I should never 
be satisfied with the hum-drum existence that the 
so-called respectable wife must put up with. If I 
had children who would fill my life and I could re¬ 
create myself in forming their minds and fashioning 
their future, that would be different, but you have 
made that impossible.” 

“That boy to whom you are so ready to turn me 
over is not of your kind. He is a gentleman—you 
are not. I thought I had forgotten how to blush, but 
I know the first uncomfortable feeling I experienced 
was when I met that boy, face to face, when I was in no 
condition to be in the society of clean-minded people. 
I had expected that he would look on me with con¬ 
tempt, but I can still see the expression of compas¬ 
sion on his fine, spiritual face. And I’m just what I 
appear to be. You have branded me and placed me 
in the same category as the woman of the streets, 
and I have no hope that I shall ever again win the 
respect of my kind. You smile sarcastically, but you 
know it’s all true. Some day you, too, will pay!” 


42 


I OBJECT 


The man waited a few moments and then said: 
"Well, now that the tirade is over, I think I’ll 
go into the smoking room and give you a chance 
to get yourself together. Apparently you’ve sense 
enough to accept the only way out. When you've 
decided what part you want me to play in the game, 
just let me know.” A door slammed as he went out. 

The bell rang sharply and the voice of the girl 
gave a command to the stewardess in an imperious 
tone. 


Chapter IV 


Marie Finds a Champion 

The duchess lay awake and had no alternative but 
to listen. She felt like dressing and going on deck, 
but the sky was overcast with a thick, heavy fog which 
enveloped the vessel, and with the constant warn¬ 
ing note of the fog horn beating against her brain, 
and the exhaustion which the sleepless night had 
brought on, she was so weary and languid that she 
found it an effort to raise her head. “Duchess,” said 
Elynor, “I think we had better see the chief steward 
and ask him to change our suite. We will get no rest 
to-night with these people as neighbors. I am sorry 
the weather is so unfavorable this morning; however, 
I think it would be better if you went on deck. The 
atmosphere is positively stifling and since the sad 
feature has been eliminated and the girl evidently 
means to take up the life that he has planned for her, 
we would be wasting our sympathy on her, so I sug¬ 
gest we find a secluded corner and spend as much of 
the time alone to-day as we can.” 

At this moment Lucy came in and Elynor left 
the duchess in her care and went on deck to find a 
sheltered corner where they would not be disturbed 
by any of the other passengers. 

When the duchess arrived on deck, Elynor had 
the steamer chairs arranged and had ordered break¬ 
fast. Many of the passengers were in the dining 
salon and a few taking their early morning walk on 
that part of the deck which was enclosed and shel¬ 
ls 


44 I OBJECT 

tered from the mists hanging heavily over the 
steamer. 

“Elynor, dear, after breakfast, after you have 
told me all about yourself, I will tell you some of 
the incidents concerning myself which no doubt 
you will be glad to hear,” the duchess remarked . 1 

They had just finished breakfast when Elynor 
saw the duchess look with some interest into the 
library, of which she commanded a full view from the 
position in which the steward had placed her chair. 
The room was empty when they sat down and 
Elynor, who was facing the duchess, seeing the look of 
interest on her face, turned her head and saw a hand¬ 
some young man seated in the deep embrasure of a 
high-back chair engrossed with a letter he was read¬ 
ing. The duchess laughed and said, “Elynor, did 
you think that I saw your Prince Charming?” 

“Oh, no, Duchess,” she answered, and blushed 
prettily. “Your face is so expressive that I could 
not help reading the look of interest in your eyes, but 
he is a fine-looking boy. He reminds me of some 
one I know.” 

After the steward had removed the tray, Elynor 
began her story, but was interrupted by a clear, 
beautiful soprano voice, filled with pathos and carried 
out by the wailing wind as an accompaniment to 
the notes of despair, into the wastes ahead of them. 
It seemed one long continuous refrain of a breaking 
heart. The soughing wind drowned the words of the 
song. Again Elynor saw on the face of the duchess 
a startled, wondering, puzzled expression. 

“Elynor,” she said, “look quickly—you don’t 
mean to tell me that’s the little girl who occupies 
the suite next to ours—that divine voice, that pa- 


MARIE FINDS A CHAMPION 


45 


thetic little figure. No, no, it is impossible! Wait, 
Elynor, don’t turn around. The boy is deeply 
affected. What can it mean? She is leaving the 
piano, she is sobbing bitterly. Elynor, we have 
misjudged her. She is only a baby. I think I will 
go to her. I am so sorry that we misunderstood. 
We must try and help her. I see it all now. Her 
rebellion is all broken. That miserable wretch of a 
man!” 

Elynor turned, and was about to rise, but seeing 
that the girl, who evidently thought she was alone, 
had crossed over to the extreme end of the salon, and 
thrown herself on the divan, and that the boy 
had crossed over to the piano, Elynor sank back into 
her seat. And then the piano answered the girl’s cry 
for a champion in this, the hour of her abandonment. 
The little drama worked itself out under their eyes. 
The girl was no longer alone; the soul of the boy 
had answered the call. What was he playing? The 
“Swan Song” from “Lohengrin.” 

The girl raised her head—a new light was in her 
face—two souls had been united and made as one. 

The girl slipped from the room; the duchess’ 
eyes were full of tears; a feeling of gladness and un¬ 
derstanding dawned on Elynor. The duchess’ face 
had told the story. The problem of the girl was 
solved, a champion had arisen to fight her battle 
with the spirit of evil. 

The duchess sighed happily as she said: “Elynor, 
you may tell me the story now. My mind is clear, 
I am almost happy—I had no idea that I felt so 
keenly for the girl.” 

“Duchess, I, too, am very, veiy happy. There 
has been a strange longing in my heart to help this 


46 


I OBJECT 


child, and I know now that there will be something 
we can do. This man, no doubt, will arrange to 
get rid of her, and we can take her under our protec¬ 
tion and in that way perhaps while she is abroad 
her marvelous voice can get the finish that will even¬ 
tually lead her into the right path and give her the 
opportunity to raise herself out of the mire that this 
unscrupulous man has thrust her in. 

“And now my life’s story.” 


Chapter V 


The Death of Elynors Mother 

“My mother was raised in a convent. She was a 
quiet, unobtrusive child, and the sisters were good 
to her. She helped prepare the food and did many 
things to make herself useful. When she was eighteen 
she was sent out into the world and lived with a 
family as housekeeper. She was not happy in that 
household, for the son of the house had fallen madly 
in love with her, constantly forcing his attentions 
upon her and arousing the displeasure of his parents. 
Finally she was compelled to leave the house, and 
he followed. Alone in the world—without a name— 
her only consolation her faith and trust in God, she 
finally listened to the tempting and bright future 
this young man painted.” 

“She married him and they were happy for a time, 
but it hurt her bitterly that he scoffed at religion 
and sneered at the symbolism of her faith. It seemed 
that he was almost jealous of her God and she was 
compelled to steal away without his knowledge to 
church. He began to drink heavily; by this time my 
brother was born. A year later I came into the world. 
After I had grown to understand, my mother tried 
to teach me to revere the Creator, but my father’s 
paganism upset all my tendencies for good. My 
brother was a wild, reckless boy. 

“My mother feared my father, and one day when 
she heard him coming up the steps as she was reading 

47 


48 


I OBJECT 


her prayer-book to me, she quickly closed it and 
slipped it under the bed-clothes. I didn’t under¬ 
stand why my mother was so secretive, and if she 
had such intense faith in God, why was it that she 
feared father so? But one day the entire thing be¬ 
came clear to my childish brain; the question was 
answered, though not in the way I had expected. 

“I heard father coming up the steps; I could 
tell by his unsteady walk that he had been drink¬ 
ing. Mother had just come in from church, and had 
not time to put away the things which she had in her 
hands. She set a bottle on the mantle, but held 
something in her hand; I didn’t know what it was. 
Father staggered into the room, grabbed mother by 
the arm, twisted her wrist, and the object she held in 
her hand fell to the floor. 

“ ‘I saw you Jbuy that damned thing,’ he said, 
crushing it under his heel.’* 

“He lurched over to the mantle—took the bottle 
from the shelf, and struck my mother on the temple 
with it. The bottle broke in his hand.” 

“ ‘There’s your cursed holy water,’ he shouted. 
The shock of the thing he had done, sobered him; 
he looked in horror at mother, whose blood was 
streaming down her face; then he rushed from the 
house like a madman. She dragged herself over to 
the object he had crushed on the floor, picked up 
the two parts of the cross, handed them to me, and 
said, ‘My daughter, remember how your mother died. 
This is the heritage I leave to you. Be good to your 
brother, forgive your father. He was not responsible, 
and say with me as Our Lord did, “Forgive them, 
Father, they know not what they do.” ’ 

“Before we buried my mother, my father had dis- 


THE DEATH OF ELYNOR’S MOTHER 49 


appeared and we went to live with the Markleys’, 
distant cousins of father’s. Mrs. Markley held very 
orthodox views. She had a son, whom she raised in 
the strict, orthodox fashion. This was strange to us, 
because we had never known of any other religion but 
our own, and the beauty of the ceremonials and 
the sanctity of that home made me look for a more 
complete and thorough knowledge of such a con¬ 
cept of religious life. To this woman I owed the 
higher ideals struggling for supremacy in my being. 
I often asked myself if it were a hereditary trait 
handed down to me by generations of scoffers that 
made it impossible for me to see the light in all 
its splendor. Would my father’s unbelief destroy 
the teachings of my mother—and was the evil pre¬ 
dominating over the good? 

“Duchess, I was a very unruly child. Mrs. Mark- 
ley was very good to me, but I knew that she did not 
love me and seemed annoyed when Michael paid 
me much attention. I heard her telling Michael 
one day that I had a dual personality. Of course, 
this was true in a way. At times, I was sweet and 
confiding and longed to put my arms around her 
and tell her how grateful I was for giving my brother 
and myself a home; but at other times the longing for 
my own dear mother was so overwhelming that I 
could not help but feel that Mrs. Markley’s kindness 
was but a phase of her naturally generous attitude 
towards humanity. Her great mother-love was all for 
Michael, and I knew that we had no share in that 
love, and so when I was morose and in an ugly mood 
she treated me in like manner, and it was not until a 
few years had passed that I felt I had won her over 
to thinking more kindly of me. 

4 


50 


I OBJECT 


“My brother was such a lazy, shiftless boy, and of 
such mediocre intelligence, that Michael and his 
mother disliked him heartily. He neglected every 
task assigned him, would not work at anything 
steadily, and the only time he seemed to make a 
little money was when he was working in a saloon 
nearby. There he got all the liquor he wanted for 
nothing and formed the terrible habit that later de¬ 
stroyed him completely.’* 


Chapter VI 


Elynors Brother Disappears 

“Mrs. Markley was talking with Michael one clay 
and I heard her say that it would be necessary to 
find another home for the boy, that she could not 
influence him for good and he was only demoral¬ 
izing me and making us all unhappy in the home. 
Michael was afraid that I would be deeply wounded 
if he sent my brother away and was very much per¬ 
plexed with the problem, which was rather hard to 
solve, but finally my brother solved it for him. 
He disappeared from home, and although we made 
every effort to get news of him, we never heard 
from him again. We—” 

'‘Yes, Elynor,” the duchess interrupted, “Maurice 
Gilbert would often come to me and relate many 
of the incidents pertaining to your home, as Michael 
and he were boyhood friends. He loved Mrs. 
Markley very dearly, and he was a constant vis¬ 
itor at Michael’s home and told me of the day on 
which a letter came when you were introduced into 
their household.” 

“Elynor, I am going to tell you the result of that 
letter, so that you will understand better the feelings 
of love and friendship which were awaiting you upon 
your arrival.” 

“When Mrs. Markley had finished reading the 
letter concerning you, the tears were coursing down 
her cheeks, and she handed the letter to Michael. 

51 


52 


I OBJECT 


He read it through and then said, ‘Mother, you can 
do as you like about it, of course, but my sympathies 
are with the children. I think it would be nice for 
you to take them into our home, now that they are 
motherless. They would be great company for you, 
and while I am away at college you would not have 
to be alone.’ 

“I remember when Maurice came home and I hap¬ 
pened to be visiting his mother that day. He seemed 
very much excited, because you and your brother had 
arrived, and he dwelt at length on you, describing you 
as the most beautiful little girl he had ever seen. His 
mother smiled at his enthusiasm, and when asked 
where he got that mark on his face he told her that 
Michael had gotten into a fight with some boys in 
the street and that during the battle Michael’s shirt 
opened and the boys caught sight of a prayer shawl he 
was wearing. Of course Maurice recognized this bit 
of wearing apparel, but the other boys did not, and 
when they began to jeer at Michael, Maurice entered 
into the fight. It seemed that later in the evening the 
boys, still incensed against Michael, learned that his 
family was going to celebrate a religious feast at their 
home that night, and as Michael had been victorious 
in the fight, they, boy-like, awaited an opportunity 
to punish him in some way. They thought it would 
be great fun to interrupt the dinner. Maurice 
happened to be standing there when the little rogues 
formulated this plan. He decided that he might be 
able to dissuade them from carrying out their wicked 
design so he went with them to the house.” 

“They all crept stealthily up to the window and 
peered in, and seemed taken aback at the scene. 
The dining room was brilliantly lighted, and all of 


ELYNOR’S BROTHER DISAPPEARS 53 


the members of the family were garbed in white, and 
at this particular moment they were all standing 
with wine cups in their hands.” 

“Michael's father reminded Maurice of pictures of 
the great prophet Abraham, with his long, flowing 
beard, and wrapped in the white holy garments of the 
high priest of Israel. The boys wore prayer scarfs 
and seemed a little frightened. When they had finally 
shut the door and sat down at the table, Maurice 

saw Michael’s father’s lips move. Michael looked 

* ^ 

under the table. Maurice wondered what he ex¬ 
pected to find there.” 

“ T saw a picture like that hanging up in the 
church when I went to mass the other morning with 
mother, but there were no girls in that picture,’ said 
one of the little boys. 

“ ‘Oh, come on, fellers, let’s go,’ said another, and 
it seemed to Maurice that, as young as they were, 
they left in a different spirit from which they came.” 

“Maurice went home to his mother and told her 
what he saw. He asked her if she wouldn’t please 
celebrate that way, too, and she promised that the 
following year she would ask the rabbi to invite 
some of the young men who were preparing for the 
pulpit to take part in this feast so they could keep 
the tradition of our fathers. Maurice told his 
mother that he was worried; that maybe some day 
the expected Messiah would come and they would 
have nothing in the house to refresh Him with. 
The Passover Feast then became an annual celebra¬ 
tion in their home. 

“Years went on—Maurice went to college and 
Michael was training for the rabbinate. When Mau¬ 
rice came home for his vacation, each time his mother 


54 


I OBJECT 


related a new misfortune that befell the Markley 
family. All the children had died except Michael, 
and when he was about to take his degree as rabbi, 
his father passed away. Maurice remembered 
Michael’s extraordinary devotion to his dear little 
mother, and a year later, when his own mother died, 
he became a daily visitor at their home. In this way 
he learned much of the teachings of Judaism, which he 
had only received in a perfunctory way at the weekly 
service. He was ashamed to confess that most of the 
time he was very much bored, and not having had 
any instructions in the Hebrew language, when they 
took out and read the passages from the Ten Com¬ 
mandments in Hebrew, he invariably slipped out of 
the temple. He would never go to his mother’s pew 
for this reason and would always take an inconspicu¬ 
ous seat so he could leave without observation or 
disturbing the service. How he envied Michael’s 
thorough knowledge of literature. Michael was 
a brilliant scholar and was conversant with every 
tongue that was spoken. In addition to this, he 
had a master mind. Much of the knowledge that 
Maurice possesses to-day he owes to his intimate 
association with this early friend of his childhood.” 


Chapter VII 

Dr. Isaac M. Wise 

“When Michael finished college and came home to 
take up his work and establish himself in his com¬ 
munity, you had developed and added to the beauty 
of your person the expansion of your mind, Elynor, 
and Maurice said that it was a very simple matter 
to one who knew you both to see how dear you had 
become to one another. I remember Maurice call¬ 
ing at your home one day and how deeply he was 
affected when he found Mrs. Markley in tears. 
She complained to him that Michael was always 
finding fault with her, and that he no longer loved 
her as he did in his boyhood days. The suspicion 
was growing that you were responsible for the change. 
A great fear had now taken possession of her that 
Michael meant to marry you, and she told Maurice 
although she had learned to love you, that you were 
not as frank with her as she would have liked you to 
be and that she came upon you very often and found 
you in tears, and at those moments you had some 
object which you hastily slipped into your bosom.” 

“Yes, Duchess,” said Elynor. “I should have 
told Mrs. Markley the truth, that it was not the 
two parts of the cross that were influencing me and 
discrediting her teachings, but that the tears were for 
my dear mother and her unhappy end. The broken 
cross was simply a relic of the only thing she had to 
leave me out of the dark past. 

55 


56 


I OBJECT 


“Then, too, Duchess, she was very much worried 
about Michael, whom she feared would take charge 
of a Reform pulpit, and I know that would have 
broken her heart, as many of the ceremonials had 
ceased to be a part of the service, and, of course, 
she knew that eventually Michael would begin to 
live the things he preached.” 

“But Michael, respecting the views of his noble 
father, and not wishing to hurt the loving heart of his 
mother, compromised by accepting the charge of 
the conservative congregation. Instead of being criti¬ 
cized for this by the founders of the orthodox syna¬ 
gogue, they encouraged and helped him carry on 
the work by sending him their children to teach and 
prepare them for the broader outlook that the en¬ 
lightened world was slowly beginning to perceive— 
that in order to love his brother one must first 
of all understand him. Michael knew, that no matter 
what social demands the complex life of the cities 
called for, the fires of enthusiasm must be kept alive 
by the ritual in the home, the Sabbath day held 
holy, and all festivals religiously followed so that 
when the call came where materialism could play no 
part and the divine will would have full sway, they 
would be ready to meet any emergency that might 
arise from a religious or political controversy. In 
the battle waged between the idealist and the ma¬ 
terialist, the idealist carries off the honors and he 
lives forever and his entire empire is lasting. The 
materialist, although gaining the spoils, enjoys the 
fruits of his conquests but for a little while. 

“I remember one day when Mrs. Markley was 
explaining to me the differences between ortho¬ 
doxy, conservatism, and reform, she agreed that 


DR. ISAAC M. WISE 


57 


the only congregation which could closely follow 
the teachings of the law of Moses would be the con¬ 
servative synagogue, as she, too, knew that, since 
the new generations would feel that Hebrew was too 
difficult as a part of the curriculum in the institu¬ 
tions of learning, gradually the English language 
would have to interpret the teachings of Judaism 
and therefore she was very happy when Michael’s 
choice fell upon the conservative synagogue.” 

“In discussing the situation, Michael explained to 
me that with the destruction of the temple in Jeru¬ 
salem and the scattering of the children of Israel 
into the four corners of the earth, and particularly 
in America, where the language was strange and the 
customs new, the so-called ‘Melting Pot’ became the 
only key to the situation, and the conservative syna¬ 
gogue made possible a perpetuation of the faith. 

“Knowing that in order to sustain the ideal in Juda¬ 
ism, it was necessary to prepare the adolescent mind, 
not only to receive, but to understand the teach¬ 
ings of the prophets, in order to perpetuate and keep 
alive the spark which our fathers received embodied 
in the Ten Commandments on Mount Sinai, the idea 
of the need of meeting the problem of the day was 
born.” 

“Michael had brilliant prospects for the future, 
as his learning covered a wide range, and with the 
fundamental principles of religion deeply instilled 
into him from early childhood, the foundation and 
the corner-stone were laid on a solid basis to receive 
any structure that would meet the needs of the period. 
Orthodoxy was too extreme and had too many dog¬ 
mas to be of value to the child in its early develop¬ 
ment, and particularly in America, which became the 


58 


I OBJECT 


shelter-house for the mixed population which poured 
into it from all parts of the world. These children 
of different beliefs and racial instincts met in 
the streets and schoolrooms and it was necessary 
to organize them into useful citizens, so that the love of 
country and the love of home would be the basis 
on which they would found their principles of social 
and political life.” 

“I think, Duchess, that had Michael consulted 
his own inclination, he would have preferred a Re¬ 
formed pulpit, since his admiration and reverence for 
the divine leader, Isaac M. Wise, was boundless. 

“I recall particularly an incident which proved 
to me his great love for this kindly and meek man. 
Michael had returned to spend the New Year with 
his mother. One of his former classmates who was 
in his senior year at the Hebrew Union College, 
was asked to call at Dr. Wise’s country home to re¬ 
ceive instructions and advice as to how to proceed 
in conducting a congregation for the holiday season 
in a small town and asked Michael to accompany 
him. As you know, Duchess, I had been teaching 
in the Sabbath school and knew Dr. Wise, and so 
when Michael offered to make me one of the party, 
I very happily accepted. As I had some curiosity 
to know what the personal side of this great man’s 
life was, you can imagine the joy in my heart when we 
walked up the country road towards his home on 
that glorious fall day.” 

“When we entered his study, we felt it almost an 
intrusion, as Dr. Wise at this particular hour was posing 
for Sir Moses Ezekiel, who had come on from Rome 
and was sculptoring his bust. He very graciously 
excused himself from Sir Ezekiel and told him the 


DR. ISAAC M. WISE 


59 


nature of our visit. To me, Duchess, that great 
soul was revealed by this act of apparent humble¬ 
ness on the part of this, the greatest man of the age 
and century. 

“He greeted me with these words: ‘And so you 
still remember me?’ 

“ ‘Remember you, doctor?’—I faltered—‘who can 
and will ever forget you? When all animate things 
have died, you, Dr. Wise, will live, and in you and 
through you, the God and the good in man will 
survive.’ 

“Doctor, we are going to put your name on the 
doorposts of our homes and we will keep your 
teachings as frontlets between our eyes; and as 
for your love, those of us who have been for¬ 
tunate enough to know you will feel that your hand 
raised in benediction over us—has consecrated us 
to carry on the work which you perfected in spite 
of bitter opposition on the part of those who were 
so blinded by bigotry that they failed to see that you 
had solved the problem for the new generations that 
will carry your banner into all parts of the world.’ 

“ ‘Listen to the child,’ he said. ‘You sweet, 
beautiful girl; you speak like a prophetess.’ 

“Dr. Wise turned to his young disciple and gave 
him instructions about the work he was to do, and 
then, in a low tone, which reached our ears faintly, 
asked him if he had money to defray his expenses for 
the journey. Upon being told that the youth had no 
funds, Dr. Wise wrote out a check. The young 
man wanted to give Dr. Wise a receipt, but the 
doctor laughingly refused to accept it, and said, ‘My 
boy, when I give anyone money, I give him a re¬ 
ceipt at the same time.’ 


60 


I OBJECT 


“Although this was not intended for us, I hastily 
wiped away the tears that I didn’t want Dr. Wise 
to see, and when I turned to Michael, I found that 
his eyes, too, were dimmed. 

“Going down the road Michael told us of some of 
the incidents in the life of that other great man, 
Dr. Schechter, of the Theological Seminary in New 
York, and particularly stressed the apparently in¬ 
significant details which great men seem to take 
such joy in.” 

“Michael had been called to the Catskills to do 
some work for Dr. Schechter, who was summering 
there with his wife, and when Michael was announced, 
he found this dreamer surrounded by a group of 
children with whom he was dividing two jars of 
candy, and the boyish pleasure he took in keep¬ 
ing the little ones in suspense as to who was 
going to get the largest share, was very amusing. 
Who would have thought that this great scholar could 
divert himself in what would appear a trivial way to 
those of ordinary intelligence?” 


Chapter VIII 


Michaels Mother Objects 

“Yes, Elynor, Sir Gilbert told me that Michael 
never permitted you to be out of his sight for a mo¬ 
ment when he was home—that he took you into his 
confidence at all times and would not act upon a 
vital matter without first consulting you, and when 
finally he finished his studies and became head of an 
influential congregation, you became a very valuable 
assistant to him, because, having taught you Hebrew, 
you were especially helpful in the Sabbath school, 
and the children not only loved you, but you were 
successful in forming their young minds. 

“Sir Gilbert also said that Michael’s mother often 
resented the fact that he always defended you when 
she found the slightest fault with you. Gradually 
a little friction arose between Michael and his mother, 
and she accepted in pained silence his sharp rebukes 
and tried to trace the little troubles that were now 
becoming a daily menace to the peace and happiness 
of their home. It appeared that you were always at 
the root of the trouble. When Michael was not 
around, Mrs. Markley showed a growing dislike 
and hostility toward you, and Michael forced the 
climax by the bantering tone he assumed when Mrs. 
Markley became bitterly incensed against you on 
that Friday evening when you became engaged to 

Michael.” 

“Elynor, dear, I am going to tell you what oc¬ 
curred before you appeared on the scene. I knew 

61 


62 


I OBJECT 


you never quite understood why Michael should 
have asked you to marry him at what seemed such 
an inopportune moment. While his words in a way 
explained, still I am sure the little details will bring 
you some comfort and happiness in your loneliness 
now.” 

“On that Friday afternoon Mrs. Markley had left 
the house for a little time to buy some Sabbath candles. 
Before leaving, she covered up the Sabbath loaf care¬ 
fully. Dusk had fallen when she returned and 
she hastily lit the candles and said the blessing over 
them, when she heard Michael come in. She went 
to the pantry to get the bread and it was gone. She 
thought perhaps you had put it elsewhere and felt 
resentful that you had touched the sacred loaf. 
She did not believe as thoroughly as Michael that 
you were happy in the faith which was his. In her 
shrewd way she guessed that you loved Michael 
first and God afterwards.” 

“When she opened the door of the refrigerator 
the food she had prepared was gone. She looked in¬ 
side again and could hardly believe her eyes; there 
was no evidence of anyone having entered the house 
in her absence and the only one who could have done 
this thing was you; but what on earth did you want 
with the food? She was standing looking into the 
refrigerator in a perplexed way when Michael came 
in, kissed her, and said: 'What’s the matter, mother 
—what dreadful thing has happened now?’ 

“The tears welled to her eyes, and she said, ‘Mi¬ 
chael, since that girl came into this house, you no 
longer care for your mother.’ 

“ ‘Mother!’ answered Michael, ‘you are very un¬ 
fair to Elynor. You don’t know how hard she tries 


MICHAEL'S MOTHER OBJECTS 


63 


to make you love her. You are prejudiced against 
her and have no faith in her, and therefore you are 
ready to find fault at all times. I am sorry, mother; 
I wish you would try to understand her. 

* 1 ‘Mother, I know you have noticed for a long 
time that I love Elynor; she has become a part of 
my life; she has fitted herself into my life so per¬ 
fectly that it would be like tearing out my heart 
to cast her out.’ 

“His mother gave him a startled look. ‘So this, 
my son, is the reward you give your poor mother for 
all the years of affection she lavished on you! You 
counseled me to take into my house a non-believer. 
If I had not followed your advice I would have my 
son to-day. If you marry her, I do not gain a daugh¬ 
ter, I lose a son; she does not love me and never will!’ 

“ ‘Mother,’ said Michael, 'she does; you don’t 
trust her!’ 

“At that moment the front door opened and you 
came in. You looked tired; your eyes were red and 
it seemed you had been weeping. Somehow Michael 
felt that you had something to do with the dis¬ 
appearance of the food, and before his mother had 
a chance to say anything to you, he asked kindly, 
‘Elynor, where have you been.'’ 

“ ‘Michael,’ you answ r ered, ‘the people next door 
have just been ordered out of their home and they had 
no place to go, so I took them to the home of one of my 
Sabbath-school pupils, and they are going to remain 
there overnight only, for these people who took them in 
are very poor. They had no food in the house, so I 
came back here and took all I could find, knowing very 
well that mother wouldn’t care when she knew that 
somebody was hungry.’ 


64 


I OBJECT 


“Michael looked at you for a moment and a great 
lump rose in his throat, and he said, speaking for 
his mother, who was weeping, ‘Elynor, I have just 
been telling mother that I intend to make you 
my wife. I wanted her consent and blessing, and I 
am sure that we are both convinced that you will 
be a fitting mate for the man whose mother trained 
you. To-night’s incident proves to me that in living 
with my mother, a part of herself has entered into 
you, and if you will only learn to know each other 
I am sure this house will be truly blessed.’ 

“His mother understood, walked over to where 
you were standing, took your hand, and Michael’s, 
and joined them. Tenderly she kissed you both and 
you sat down to eat the remnants of the Sabbath feast. 
Mrs. Markley saw that you and Michael did not seem 
to notice that there was not much to eat, and she rose 
from the table with divided feelings, glad for her son 
that he was happy, sad for herself that she did not 
have great hope for any happiness in this union, be¬ 
cause she knew that in order for the sacred bond 
between man and wife to be lasting, it was necessary 
that reciprocal confidence be complete, and woman¬ 
like, she knew intuitively that you were hiding some¬ 
thing from all of them. You were married shortly 
after this.” 

“Michael and you established yourselves in a cozy 
little home and Michael was supremely happy, but 
gradually he felt that you were not quite the same 
after you had been married about three months. 
You were nervous and irritable, and for the first time 
since he had known you, you answered him sharply* 
and he noticed that when he talked to you about 
his work at the temple there was a look of terror on 


MICHAEL’S MOTHER OBJECTS 65 


your face which he found impossible to explain away. 
One day he came to Sir Gilbert and said, ‘Sir Gilbert, 
you and Elynor have been very close friends; did 
she at any time tell you of some secret trouble of 
which I am not aware? Do you know if she has 
gotten in touch with her brother and whether he has 
done anything that could upset and disturb her so?’ 
Sir Gilbert told him he knew of absolutely nothing 
that could bring about this great change in you. 
Sir Gilbert advised Michael to speak to his mother, 
as possibly you would make a confidant of her, if 
she tried to draw you out on the subject.” 

“Michael went to his mother and had a long talk 
with her and I think it was due to this conversation 
that gradually he began to watch you more closely. 
On several occasions he came home rather unexpect¬ 
edly and found you in a state of collapse. He was be¬ 
ginning to be genuinely alarmed; the wear and 
tear of this new home problem was telling on his 
health and he began to neglect much of his work, 
which had made him such a leader in his congregation.” 

“He came home from Bible class early one evening. 
You were in your night-clothes, and although you 
were standing with your back to him as he entered, 
he caught your reflection in the glass. You were 
holding something in your hand and weeping bit¬ 
terly. His suspicions were confirmed—it must be a 
letter from your brother. He gave you an oppor¬ 
tunity to collect yourself and spoke cheerily to you.” 

“About a week later he was called out of the city 
to a funeral in a neighboring town, and as he did not 
know at what hour he would return, he told you not 
to wait up for him. He came into the Louse in a 
rather sad frame of mind; the scene in the death 


66 


I OBJECT 


chamber had been very harrowing—the wife had 
cried out against God, and flung her protest against 
the injustice of man. It seemed that in this awful' 
crisis in their wedded life she was not only robbed of 
her husband, but also of her faith in him.” 

“Michael made as little noise as possible in enter¬ 
ing; the reception hall was dark and the bed chamber, 
with its subdued light, looked almost weird. He 
took a step forward and then suddenly stopped. 
He felt his blood congeal at the sight he beheld. 
You, his Elynor, the girl whom he had worshipped 
and adored—the girl for whom he had sacrificed his 
own hearth—you were on your knees at the bedside 
in an attitude of prayer, your face covered with tears— 
your golden hair flowing over your shoulders, and in 
your hands, you were holding aloft a cross, and crying 
aloud, ‘Mother, mother, I am all alone—I have no 
one who loves and understands me in this great hour 
when I need you most.’ As you raised your head, 
you saw Michael’s white, tense face in the mirror. 
You shrieked in agony and knew at that moment that 
you had lost your husband.’ 



Michael and Elynor’s Wedding 



































Chapter IX 

Sorrow and Joy 

“Michael* rushed from the house like a madman. 
By this time the city was in darkness. He wandered 
about the greater part of the night, and when he be¬ 
came more calm he came to Sir Gilbert’s home and 
told him what had happened. Sir Gilbert begged him 
to consider well what he was doing and to talk to 
you before taking any step which would perhaps de¬ 
stroy and ruin any hopes of reconciliation between 
you, but Michael assured him that it would be utterly 
impossible for him to approach you on the subject 
and make an effort to take up his life with you again, 
that you had completely destroyed, not only his faith 
in you, but in himself. How could he hope to in¬ 
fluence and help his fellow men if he had failed so 
completely in regulating his own affairs at home? 
If you, to whom he gave that love, which is the strong¬ 
est factor in human life—and in which lies the hope of 
all salvation—failed to bring him in return constancy 
and devotion—how could he hope to give counsel 
in affairs which concerned the lives of other people? 
Evidently his love for you had been his greatest 
weakness, for he was blinded by this self-same love 
to your own imperfections which he now realized his 
dear mother had tried to point out to him. He saw 
now that her knowledge and understanding of human 
nature was superior to his. Her bitter experiences 
and unhappy losses had brought a complete undei- 

67 


68 


I OBJECT 


standing of the complexities of the human mind—the 
full significance of her warning note throughout his 
entire defense of you, Elynor, was brought home to 
him. His mother had a feeling that there was some¬ 
thing wrong—she tried to advise him—to point 
out to him the danger of a possible misunderstanding 
and the great disaster that would follow, if what 
she feared, actually happened, but he was deaf to 
her entreaties and attributed it all to bigotry in 
matters concerning religious affairs.” 

“He could not and would not face his mother; he 
could not bear to discuss you with her; he feared 
the bitter things she would say of you. You had 
shattered his dream of happiness—that is true, 
but you were still his ideal-girl—the only woman in 
the world who could make him happy and be the 
mother of his children. No, he would not see his 
mother; he made arrangements with Sir Gilbert 
to turn over a fund whereby you and his mother 
would be cared for and asked him to keep his secret 
and to tell his mother that a dreadful calamity had 
fallen upon him—that in losing you, nothing more 
mattered—that he was going away and that she 
should see that you wanted for nothing. 

“He sent in his resignation to the congregation— 
remained with Sir Gilbert until he had put his affairs 
in order and promised to write Sir Gilbert and keep 
him informed of his whereabouts.” 

Then Elynor took up the story: 

“Yes, Duchess, Sir Gilbert called on me shortly 
after this and tried to effect a reconciliation and I 
told him the spectre that stood between Michael 
and myself could be discussed with no one but my 
husband. He was gone, so upon me devolved the 


SORROW AND JOY 


69 


burden of taking up the threads of my life and bring¬ 
ing to fruition the great trust that God had given into 
my keeping.” 

“Duchess, my child was about to be born; Michael 
did not know that I was to become a mother—-I 
was afraid to tell him this wondrous thing. I was 
torn with anxiety that my offspring would be born 
crippled in body, mind, and soul. I had heard that 
in cases of heredity there is always a lapse of a gen¬ 
eration when the inherent evil asserts itself again, 
and so I fancied that alcohol would give me a blind 
baby—that irreligion would give me a scoffer that 
the crime of my father would make my child a dwarf, 
and so, Duchess, when Michael left and I awakened 
to consciousness, I spent most of the time on my 
knees. One day came my baby—my lovely, beautiful, 
little Lura Hope, and, Duchess, all my fears were 
groundless. The kindly Father had sent me a gift in 
which was embodied all the graces, for looking over 
the years as you and I are doing to-day, you know 
what that girl stands for, and to me, Duchess, the 
years brought peace and joy and happiness, foi in the 
child’s large, beautiful, brown eyes was imprisoned 
the soul of my Michael—in her beautiful, burnished, 
golden hair was the lighter tint of my Michael’s—in 
the peach-blossom bloom of her cheek I recognized 
the dreams of my Michael.” 


As Elynor finished speaking the tears were softly 
coursing down her cheeks—she closed her eyes the 
Duchess glanced up—slowly a hand descended on 
Elynor’s head—a cheek lay against her own a kiss 
was imprinted on her eyes Elynor felt a thrill 



70 


I OBJECT 


vibrate through her body—and—slowly—slowly she 
was lifted up and enfolded in the arms of her Michael. 

Fortunately there was no one on deck to witness 
the scene that followed. Elynor opened her eyes, 
gasped, and lost consciousness. Michael carried her 
to his suite and the duchess followed. They waited 
in some anxiety until Elynor recovered conscious¬ 
ness. Michael remained in the background; he 
felt that the shock of the meeting had upset her 
sufficiently for the moment. 

The duchess was kneeling at Elynor’s side. Elynor 
smiled faintly and said: “Duchess, wasn’t that a 
wonderful dream? I don’t see how r I could have 
confused Michael with the handsome officer, but it 
seemed to me, that when I finished speaking, I was 
in the officer’s arms. The duchess answered: “Elynor, 
I have been trying to prepare you for this event 
since we boarded the steamer, but feared the result 
for you. It was no dream, Elynor—Michael and the 
distinguished man who made such an impression on 
you, are one and the same, and to you has come 
this great happiness, after the years of sorrow, 
loneliness, and despair, which you met and faced so 
bravely.” 


Chapter X 


The Reckoning 

“Duchess, you don’t really mean that this great, 
wonderful thing is true?” asked Elynor; “that 
I have not only found my Michael, but in him the 
new-born happiness which filled my being, when for 
the moment I thought it was only a dream?” Again 
Elynor closed her eyes. 

The duchess nodded to Michael and this time 
neither of them feared any unhappy results for 
Elynor. 

Michael whispered, “Elynor, darling, I have come 
back to you. It will not be necessary for me to ask 
forgiveness; the great soul of you divined why I left 
you—you knew there could be no happiness for us 
until the realization came to me that love levels all 
barriers. Later, when you have recovered sufficiently 
to listen to the adventures of my life for the past 
twenty years, you will know how your Michael suf¬ 
fered, and through suffering was purged and came to 
know that one God rules over us all.” 

“I am sure the duchess will want some luncheon and 
later in the day we will again take up the subject so 
near to our hearts. I have a great surprise for you. 
Had you remained in America a few days longer and 
received her letters, our little daughter would have 
forestalled me in the joy of the tale that I am going to 
relate to you, of how she and I met and how she nursed 
me back to health, hope, and happiness. 

71 


72 


I OBJECT 


“When I arrived in America, Mother told me all 
that transpired during my absence, but she left the 
personal touches for you to add. I am interested in 
the trip you took to Japan, where you found your un¬ 
happy brother.” 

Turning to the duchess, he said: “Duchess, how 
can Elynor and I ever repay you for all that you and 
your dear sister, the Lady Lura, have done for me 
and mine? It was with great pride that I learned that 
my little girl bears the name of your talented and 
benevolent sister, and I am sure that she can be proud 
that my Lura Hope is her namesake. The story reads 
like a romance, Duchess, and to you, the bountiful 
Lady Jessica, with the regal carriage and charm of a 
Cleopatra of old, is befitting the role of the guardian 
angel.” 

The duchess colored at this pretty compliment, 
and responded: “I see, Colonel, that added to all 
your many other distinguished qualities, the gift 
of appealing to the vanity of the ever-feminine is a 
distinct feature. I thank you heartily in behalf of 
my sister and myself. I will leave you now for a little 
while, but you have made a very bad beginning— 
you are returning evil for good. You have robbed me 
of my secretary and I know I shall spend lonely hours 
now, for despite Elynor’s gratitude, I shall be thrown 
on my own resources, because the outstanding fea¬ 
ture in her life now, and the constant word on her 
lips, will be 'Michael’—my ‘Michael,’ and again 
‘Michael.’ However, I presume I shall have to be 
content to remain in the background and for the 
time being, eclipse myself and find contentment in 
shining by reflection. I know you have much to 
say to each other, so I will leave you now.” 


THE RECKONING 


73 


“Duchess, I have arranged with the captain to have 
you and Elynor dine at his table this evening and if 
you feel inclined to rest for the afternoon and do not 
wish to be disturbed, it will give me great pleasure to 
escort you to dinner,” said Michael. 

“I shall be happy to accept the invitation,” was 
the reply. 

Although the duchess rejoiced in this great joy 
that had come to these unfortunate beings who had 
wasted the years in which joy and gladness could have 
played so big a part, she sadly went back to her suite 
and a great depression and sense of loneliness settled 
on her. 

She was just a few years older than Elynor and 
a great longing was awakened in her to love and be 
loved—to again become a part of these big families of 
the universe—to live and bask in the sunshine and 
the love of a heart which was exclusively her own. 

As these thoughts were flitting through her mind, 
she entered her cabin and found a note which her 
maid had just taken from the stewardess. She won¬ 
dered who could have written it—opened it, and saw 
that it was from Sir Gilbert’s nephew, asking for 
an interview. In her present lonely mood this pro¬ 
vided a very happy touch, and eagerly she sent the 
answer with Lucy, summoning Harold to come to 
her immediately. 

Harold lost no time in responding to the invitation. 
The duchess was greatly surprised to see that Harold 
was the youth who had so nobly championed the 
cause of “The Mystery Girl.” She greeted him 
warmly and told him that she had received a letter from 
his uncle telling her that he was aboard the steamei. 

“Duchess, I saw that you were in no mood to re- 


74 


I OBJECT 


ceive anyone this morning,” said Harold. “Of course, 
I had no difficulty in identifying you, from the de¬ 
scription my uncle gave me in his letter, and I noticed 
that you were observing me very closely, and fancied 
at first that you knew me, but later I saw that you 
seemed very much interested in that poor girl who 
seems to be having a sad time with her husband. 
I am heartily sorry for her. Several times in passing 
them, 1 heard him speak very rudely to her and I 
I saw that they were not happily mated. I don’t 
know what recalled the story to my mind of “Beauty 
and the Beast.” I felt that this must be one of those 
ill-considered marriages that are man-made and not 
sanctioned by God. I have felt very sorry for that 
poor little thing; she seemed to me like some trans¬ 
planted flower. I have seen her weeping bitterly, 
when she thought no one was taking any notice of her. 
I am so glad, Duchess, that you are interested; my 
uncle told me that you are always trying to alleviate 
distress wherever you find it and I noticed by the 
expression on your face this morning that she had 
found a friend in you, if the need came.” 

“Harold, my boy,” said the duchess, “you and I 
are going to get on famously. We have started off 
with a topic that is of mutual interest, and I think 
you are going to find out in a day or two that you 
will be called upon to give more than mere sympathy 
to this child. I heard you play the ‘Swan Song’ and 
I think she feels that her ‘Lohengrin’ is going to 
champion her cause.” 

“Harold, my dear—my dear—that man is not her 
husband; he deceived her. He is a married man and 
has a family. They occupy the suite across the cor¬ 
ridor and we are forced to listen to their conversa- 


THE RECKONING 


75 


tion, as they generally start an argument at such 
an ungodly hour that even stuffing cotton in our ears 
doesn’t keep out the sound,” said the duchess in 
a careless tone. “I know, Harold, that you must 
think I am flippant to treat the matter so lightly, 
but conditions to-day are such that virtue has a 
fixed market value and I am afraid there are many 
who would be tempted to fall off the pedestal if 
sufficiently dazzled by the temptor, and particularly 
in this case where the child is really not to blame. Her 
greatest crime was that she did not go to her mother 
and tell her of the trouble that she was in.” 

The duchess noticed that as she was speaking, 
the boy grew pale—the eyes of dark, violet blue 
had grown intensely black, and that there was a look 
in them that boded ill for the man who had crushed 

this field flower so ruthlessly. 

‘‘Duchess, I hope you won’t misunderstand me— 

I cannot explain this inner feeling which makes me 
wish I were her brother long enough to thrash the 
scoundrel and make him a public spectacle, so that 
he would not be able to mingle with the passengers. 
His presence is an insult to every self-respecting man 
and woman on board and I for one will voice my 

sentiments without hesitancy. 

“Harold,” the duchess said, “you must do your 
utmost to control your temper; you will do her more 
harm than good. You would injure her and gain 

nothing.” 

“Elynor Markley, whom you no doubt know of 
(as she is a good friend of your uncle’s), to-day has 
been reunited to her husband, from whom she has 
been separated for the past twenty years. Elynor 
and I had planned, ere Colonel Markley made him- 


76 


I OBJECT 


self known, that we would watch the girl closely 
and come to her aid if necessary, so you leave the 
matter entirely in our hands and keep in the back¬ 
ground. The man has already taunted her because 
you seem to be interested in her. He seems to love 
her in a sort of way, from what I gather from his 
conversation with her, and he would make it very 
unpleasant for you and her both, when in one of his 
ugly, jealous moods.” 

The sound of hurried footsteps broke in on their 
conversation and ended in the suite opposite. The 
duchess and Harold heard someone moving around. 
At that moment, the deck steward appeared in the 
doorway and handing the duchess a purse and a 
book, said, “Madame, you left these articles in your 
steamer chair.” She thanked him and glanced at the 
book. “Oh, yes, I remember,” she said to Harold, 
“I noticed Elynor had this book in her hand.” 

As the duchess opened the book, a letter fell to the 
floor and a small photograph of a man and a young 
girl slipped out of the letter. Harold picked it up and 
handed it to the duchess. She looked at it a moment 
and on her face, Harold read conflicting emotions— 
amazement—wonderment—incredulity—and as her 
bewilderment grew, she looked helplessly at Harold 
and handed him the photograph. 

“Why, Duchess,” said Harold, “it is the face of the 
girl we were just speaking of, but this girl has the 
carriage and the dignity of a little queen.” 

“Yes, Harold, I puzzled over the resemblance 
between Elynor and this stranger at dinner last 
night. This must be a portrait of Elynor when she 
was a girl. The resemblance is startling.” 

They were again interrupted by loud, angry voices, 


THE RECKONING 


77 


coming apparently from the corridor. ‘‘So, young 
lady, you found it, did you? Now you give me that 
gun. You are driving me to desperation—you will 
make me do something that you will be sorry for 
later. Your avoidance of me all morning is making 
me desperate and if you don’t give me that gun, 
by God—” 

The girl said hysterically: “If you come another 
step towards me, I will fire. My decision is made— 
you leave this cabin at once, or I will go to the captain 
and place myself under his protection. I have thought 
it over carefully and I refuse to be the plaything of 
cowards like you any longer. From this day on, I 
take up a new life—I will beg if necessary and de¬ 
vote myself to the great art in which I now see lies 
my salvation. Yes, when I get to Paris I will go to 
live in the magic circle where idealists and dreamers 
give their lifeblood to fashion a career. If God will 
forgive me, I shall dedicate myself to his service, 
and if it be my good fortune to wash away with tears 
the stain you have put upon me, I will make amends 
by holding out a helping hand to those who have 
been betrayed by vipers like you.” 

“Ha! Ha!” he scoffed, “listen to Miss Puritan. 
So you are going to turn over a new leaf. By jove! 
that’s good. Well, how do you think you are going 
to live? You think, my fine lady, I am going to let 
you keep the jewels I gave you? Not on your life 
you hand them over to me right now, as long as you 
feel that way about it. I thought you were going to 
let me take care of you, but I guess you must have 
been talking to that boob, who no doubt will be my 
successor. Well, you won’t take anything with you 
that I gave you and if he hasn’t any more than you, 




78 


I OBJECT 


you’ll make a fine pair. So he will take a hand-me- 
down, will he? Well, he’s welcome, I have had 
enough of you.” 

“One word more,” said the girl in a shrill tone, “and 
it will be your last.” 

The duchess and the boy stood as if they were 
petrified—they heard a struggle and suddenly three 
shots rang out in quick succession. The boy sprang 
forward and stopped short in the doorway. At his 
feet lay the man whom he believed to be the husband 
of the girl. 


Chapter XT 


Looking Backward 

After the duchess left Elynor and Michael to¬ 
gether, Michael rearranged the pillows on the Re- 
camier chair in which Elynor was resting, and seated 
himself beside her, saying: 

“Now, Elynor darling, rest your head on my 
shoulder and tell me just what happened after I 
left you. Mother told me that you refused to accept 
anything from her and that you managed somehow 
to get along without any assistance until the duchess 
stepped in on that memorable Thanksgiving Day 
and changed the destiny of my loved ones.” 

“Michael, my dear,” began Elynor, “Sir Gilbert 
came to me a few days after you left and tried to 
persuade me to follow you and explain the dread 
that was in my heart. I hesitated to accept his ad¬ 
vice as I did not want to distress you unnecessarily. 
I thought that it would be better if I made no effort 
to see you again until after our child was born and I 
could better explain to you my fears. Had I fore¬ 
seen that you would slip out of my life as completely 
as you did, I would have followed you to the ends 
of the earth. But, my dear one, it was intended 
that in order to learn the needs and suffering of 
others and to help my unfortunate sisters, I myself, 
should have to endure all the hardships that despair 
scatters throughout life’s journey. 

“Now that you have been restored to me, my 
gratitude to my heavenly bather is so gieat that I 

79 


80 


I OBJECT 


even thank him for having given me the opportunity 
to drink this draught of sorrow which I now know 
was the rich wine which flows in the veins of every 
true-hearted man and woman. 

“If you will remember, I had not touched the 
money you placed to my credit in the bank as a 
wedding gift, and so I had ample for my modest 
needs during that period in which I secluded myself 
and spent the time in prayer and anxious waiting for 
that blessed day on which my Lura Hope arrived. 

“No, Michael dear, I would not go to your mother 
because I knew she would be very bitter against me 
for having driven you away and for deceiving her, 
as she thought. 

“I awakened that Thanksgiving morning, and a 
strange calm had settled upon me. I was certain that 
on this day, would stand guard over me, the dispenser 
of life and death. Michael, I was alone—alone, my 
dear one, and I had no one to turn to on this day of 
days. I put myself in the hands of the Creator and 
left the decision to the Divine One. I was on my 
knees when Dr. Daniel McAlpin entered. I shall 
always remember the light of goodness—of kindness— 
of geniality, that gazed upon me out of those fine, 
clear, gray eyes. I turned to him and said, ‘Doctor, 
this is the day.’ 

“He said, ‘Yes, my child.’ 

“His arms opened to me and cheerily he said, 
‘Nothing to worry about, little girl; I will stay with 
you all through the day—all through the night if 
necessary. Don’t cry; think of the joy that this will 
bring to Michael on his return. It is only a passing 
shadow—see what a glorious day it is; the clouds are 
of silver—there is not a speck of darkness in the sky, 


LOOKING BACKWARD 


81 


so put your things on—I have made all arrangements 
at the hospital and everything is in readiness.’ 

“And so it was, Michael, so it was.” 

“I went into the sanctuary which brought my Hope. 
Dr. McAlpin, that wonderful friend—that weaver of 
dreams—the tales that he told to cheer and comfort 
me—they would even bring laughter to your lips. 
The day dragged on and I wasn’t quite sure whether 
I wanted to cry or laugh; I think I did both.” 

“Michael, I hope you will forgive me for what I 
am about to say, but you had ceased to be a part of 
the scheme of things for me that day. In that final 
moment I saw a vision—I shuddered away from the 
angel of death into the arms of the angel of life, and 
in our noble doctor was vested the divine right to 
safely conduct us on to the threshold of life.” 

“The nurse asked me if there was anyone that I 
wished to inform of the happy event and I said, 
'Nobody.’ I little knew, Michael, that that word 
‘nobody’ would suddenly transform a hospital into 
a castle for me, for your mother had heard that I 
had gone to the hospital and called the duchess and 
asked her to see that I wanted for nothing and 
begged the duchess to get permission from me to 
receive her.” 

“I will give you the rest of the story as the duchess 
told it to me, Michael. We owe her a debt that can 
never be paid. You see, dear, with the exception 
of the recommendation of our physician, I seemed 
a poor, little, stray cat who had come in out of the 
storm seeking refuge, so when the duchess called up 
to inquire about me, she was coldly rebuffed by the 
nurse in charge. The nurse explained later that she 
was not aware that I had friends in the city. When 


6 


82 I OBJECT 

the duchess told her she was neither my mother nor 
my sister, the nurse would give her no information of 
any kind.” 

‘The duchess was very much exasperated and to 
punish the nurse, she said, Tf Mrs. Markley will 
want for anything, you will kindly call the Ritz Hotel 
and ask for the Duchess of Marlboro/ 

“ ‘Oh, yes, Duchess, of course/ gasped the nurse. 
‘And while it would not be possible to see the mother 
to-day, we shall be very glad to have you call, if you 
will, and look at the beautiful baby, which is the pride 
of the hospital.’ 

“Michael, from that day on began the dream 
life of my little Lura. The Lady Lura, the duchess’ 
sister, was her godmother and became her patroness. 
The years passed and our Lura Hope brought joy 
and happiness to her dear old grandmother; and to 
Lady Lura she became the breath of life. In the lap 
of affluence, Lura grew into a beautiful, graceful, 
high-minded girl, and when I left for Japan, the Lady 
Lura took her to Switzerland to their chalet in In¬ 
terlaken. There, Michael, she met the boy who was 
destined to make her suffer. I have here the first 
letter I received from Lura. Just a moment and I 
will get it. I will read it to you so you will know 
how this pretty little romance started and began to 
take on tragic elements. 


“‘Interlaken, July 5, 19—. 

“‘To my Mother: 

“‘My dear, dear mother, first of all I want to 
thank you for my daddy’s picture. I am having a 
miniature made of it and the Lady Lura, my other 
sweetheart, is having a dear little locket made for 


LOOKING BACKWARD 


83 


me, and I will put the little miniature I have of you 
with that of daddy’s and will wear it next to my 
heart, where you are always enshrined. I pray every 
night that daddy will come back to us.” 

“ ‘Mother, to-day I met a boy and he told me that 
he was an orphan and had been sent to Europe to 
study art. He is the protege of an artist who dis¬ 
covered this little boy had extraordinary talent for 
painting, and as his patron was childless he adopted the 
boy and added to his name of Robert—Nathan 
Hall.” 

“‘It seems, Mother, that the only remaining mem¬ 
ber of the Dutch family of Johann Bott was his 
mother. She had been ill for years and years; it was 
a melancholy condition brought on by the loss of 
Robert’s father. Robert told me that doctors could 
do nothing for his mother and the only thing that 
could save her would be faith in herself. One day, 
someone sent her a paper on Christian Science and 
she began to take a great interest in the subject and 
gradually her condition improved. Unhappily, while 
on a motor trip they had an automobile accident and 
his mother was instantly killed. That’s a very sad 
story, isn’t it, Mother dear? I felt so sorry for him.” 

“ ‘Later I found out what a good boy he was.” 

“ ‘Lady Lura and I were sitting on a bench in front 
of the Schweitzerhof Hotel when our attention was 
attracted to this same youth, who had an easel before 
him and was painting. I walked over to talk to him 
and saw he was sketching the “Yungfrau.” He 
told me that his uncle had made a wonderful paint¬ 
ing of the “Yungfrau” some fifty years ago, but 
someone had bought it and it could not be traced, 
so he was trying to reproduce it for a patron who was 


84 I OBJECT 

interested in the lovely Swiss landscape crowned with 
this snow peak/’ 

“‘My glance strayed to the far end of the path 
leading up to the mountain, and I caught sight of a 
flock of sheep and was surprised to see they were all 
black except one. This poor little thing had met 
with an accident in trying to vault over a fence which 
was placed there to enclose the pasture. The little 
white lamb was pinned between two bars of wood 
and his two little feet were lacerated by the nails 
that held it together.” 

“‘Robert followed my glance—jumped up from the 
easel and ran to the rescue of the lamb. I followed 
and as we approached, the sheep scattered in fear. 
Robert released the poor injured lamb. I took it 
in my arms and was weeping over it.” 

“ ‘Robert said to me, “Why the lamb will get well 
again—you told me your name is ‘Hope’—I find 
charity lying close to your heart and all you need is 
faith.” 

“‘Coming towards us fearfully and hesitatingly, 
with sad and hanging head was a beautiful black 
sheep. It’s head had not been shorn and the soft, 
silken tresses veiled the remorse that was in the eyes 
of this deserter, who was a shepherdess of the flock. 
As she drew near, she grew bolder, and when she saw 
that we did not attempt to drive her away, she came 
up to the little lamb and caressed the wounded feet, 
and so expiated her fault. The little lamb seemed to 
say to me, “Be good to her, she has repented.” 

“ ‘Mother, I looked up to the virginal whiteness 
of the maid of the dell and then glanced at the stern 
rugged lines of the monk at her side. The sun came 
forth in all its splendor and I fancied I saw the genial 


LOOKING BACKWARD 


85 


warmth had melted part of the snow—and as it flowed 
down the face of the monk, it seemed to me that both 
the maid and the monk were weeping over the little 
lamb. Oh, Mother! why were the others so heartless? 
Those big grown sheep should not have deserted this 
little lamb who came amongst them only to be loved.” 

“ ‘Later in the day, Robert told me a story of how 
he was reminded of that other Lamb whom the 
Romans had nailed to the cross and, Mother, Robert 
is a very, very bright boy. He told me that for 
years and years everyone was under the impression 
that God’s chosen people had done this wicked thing, 
but Robert said it isn’t true, and that the people 
just couldn’t understand. There was no way for them 
to know whether this good, kind idealist amongst 
them was really God’s son. Mother, nobody seemed 
to know. There was that big king who just laughed 
at him—and that Roman ruler who said he didn t 
see any harm in him, but he wouldn’t have any¬ 
thing to do with him, just the same. Robert told 
me that if anybody needed to be saved in those 
days, it was the Romans, because the girls were 
indecent and the men were bad. Mother, they even 
built baths, Robert said, where they would go after 
they drank too much and .some of them would lie 

around there almost unconscious.” 

“ ‘I know you think this is an awful story, but 1 
may as well know it. Of course, you never would 
say anything about it and I can guess why because 
father was a rabbi, but, Mother, you should not 
have been afraid to discuss it with me, because I 
think I understand why there is so much trouble in 
the world. People are not happy because they are 
always quarreling about things that are not really 


86 


I OBJECT 


important. The only important thing that 1 can 
see, from what Robert tells me, is to believe in the 
one God/’ 

“‘Mother, he has great faith in Christ, and it is 
beautiful. He can’t see why people think that 
Christ said He was God. Why, Robert told me 
the night before Christ was crucified, He said to some 
of His disciples, “I will not be with you long because 
my Father, who sent me to give myself as an offering 
to save the wicked in the world, has called me home. 
Before I go, my dear children, let us go into the house 
of Simon, my friend, and there we will partake of the 
Passover Feast and commemorate the forty years 
of our wandering in the forest in which God threw 
down Manna to us and kept us alive.” 

‘“Then, Mother, just think of it—can you imagine 
that anyone would be so cruel? Almost that same 
day, they took Him out and led Him amongst the 
people and wanted to make Him say and do things to 
prove that He was God. King Herod asked Him to 
fly for him, but He never said a word. He just looked 
as if He wanted to say, “If your eyes of clay cannot 
see that God sent me into the world for good, and 
having lived amongst you all these years, living the 
life that my Father planned for a happy and perfect 
universe, then the words of my mouth will be of no 
value, for words not borne out by acts die, and acts, 
remain fixed as stellar .stars in the sky.” 

“‘What was the use of flying? If He had done 
these things, Robert said, and lived amongst them, 
He might have startled them for a little while just as 
each generation overwhelms us by its repeated 
wonders. 

“‘Robert said the first time he saw an aeroplane 


LOOKING BACKWARD 


87 


he was so excited that his mother had to reason with 
him to quiet his fears. He was sure the judgment 
day had come, because Robert said, if anything could 
fly, God had no protection against the people and 
they would fly right up to heaven and quarrel with 
Him because He did not satisfy their petty needs and 
would have to listen to their stupid criticisms of lives 
and actions of other people.” 

“‘You see, Mother, as soon as Robert’s mother 
took up Christian Science, she had to read the Bible 
carefully in order to understand the subject if the 
attacks on her belief did come; Robert said she had to 
be prepared. Mother, you know that I think I am 
going to read the Bible every day, as I think it is 
much more instructive than some of the books 
which do not even point out a moral. Just think 
if I should die suddenly, how wonderful it would be 
if I should be stricken with the Bible in my hands. 

I could go right up to God and he would not even 
ask any questions as to what I believed, because I 
would hold in my hand the Bible and say to him, 
“Dear Father, I tried to follow your teachings.” 

“‘Mother, this is a very long letter, isn’t it? I 
remember that you showed me a letter one day and 
somebody was talking to you about a little broken 
idol, and I recall that you were crying and that 
you went to Japan later. When you came back you 
wrote me that you had buried the little broken idol. 
Now, Mother, I am nearly finished, but oh, this has 
been such a big day-—Robert is so wonderful. 1 
told him he ought to be a preacher and do you know 
what he said? He said, “For me, he would be any¬ 
thing,” but it was just as good to be a painter, be¬ 
cause if he would paint pictures of beautiful land- 


88 


I OBJECT 


scapes, maybe sometimes the poor people who were 
shut in by tenements on all sides, would have a 
chance to see them and maybe they could even buy a 
cheap print and hang them in their poverty-stricken 
rooms and then they could imagine that it was a 
garden surrounding the house.’* 

“‘Now, one more thing, Mother, and I am sure 
you don’t know this at all,—if you did, you would 
have told me about it because it is only what you 
taught me of the great priests of Israel and God’s 
chosen people, and of the first religion from which 
branched all religions of to-day. I would not have 
understood all these things Robert told me, but 
Mother, it seemed to me that you had fertilized the 
ground—planted the seed—and Robert had finished 
it with the harvest. This is what I wanted to say: 
“I never told you about one day I was playing in 
the park with some little children, and one little 
girl said she didn’t want to play with me, because 
I was a Jew. You know, Mother, if I had known 
at that time that the Christ she believed in, lived 
and died a Jew, as Robert told me, I would have told 
her that she was not a Christian at all, and, besides 
Christ said, ‘Love Ye One Another.’ He didn’t tell 
her not to love me, but I was afraid that I would hurt 
your feelings and never said anything about it, and 
if anybody ever tells you that the Jews killed Christ, 
don’t you believe them, because Robert said that 
the Roman soldiers took Him in charge when they 
brought Him for judgment, and they spat on Him, 
they sneered at Him, they beat Him, and they even 
taunted Him when He was on the cross. Mother, 
please don’t forget it was the Romans and not the 
Jews, that not only killed Christ, but refused to be- 


LOOKING BACKWARD 


89 


lieve in Him. Jews were His followers—His disciples 
were all Jews. Robert said that maybe they did 
change their mantles but they could add nothing to 
the doctrine of God, nor take anything away from it. 
Robert said therefore there should be no religious 
differences.” 

“‘Good-bye, Mother dear, God bless you. Lady 
Lura sends her love and Robert said he hopes you 
will like him when you meet him. With a million 
kisses, your little girl, “ ‘Lura.’ 

As Ely nor finished reading the letter, it seemed to 
her that Michael’s face was glorified. 

“Elynor, my darling, my blessed girl, your prayers 
brought you and me a priceless treasure. They have 
spoken always of the priests of Israel. Oh, noble 
wife and mother, I know a priestess has arisen and 
my baby girl has in addition to her fine mind, the 
greatest of all gifts, that of the Healer. I think, 
Elynor, it is fitting now that I tell you that from the 
portals of death I was snatched by our little Lura. 
I met her, my darling, on the battlefield; in pain and 
agony she found me—this beautiful Lura of ours, 
and through her, God cleansed me of the crime I com¬ 
mitted against both of you when I left you in my 
bigotry and misunderstanding.” 

“Yes, Michael dear, but you don’t know what that 
letter meant to me. I had made a mistake w ith you 
and made an exile of you, and brought down upon 
myself the condemnation of all your friends, and I 
again made the same mistake with my little girl. 

“The day after her confirmation, when she had 
reached the age of understanding, I should have told 
her the entire story of why you left me and prepared 


90 


T OBJECT 


her to meet the situation that finally confronted her 
when she met this Robert, who made such a vivid 
impression on her. Evidently, the youth had an 
extraordinarily developed mind and the teachings of 
his mother must have sunk very deep, for him to 
present to her this religious question in such a clear 
and concise form, that a child could read mean¬ 
ing into it. Again fear made a coward of me. I did 
not want to belittle you in her eyes—that earthly 
love had not stood the test when the divine will 
intervened, but I was wrong. I saw T the danger of 
it immediately and sat down and answered Lura’s 
letter on the instant, and told her of all the events 
that led up to the time of her birth, but unfortunately 
the letter did not reach Lura until too late to save 
her from heartache and pain.” 

“The little idol she speaks of in her letter, as you 
know, was my brother, and after you have finished 
reading Lura’s response to my delayed letter, I will tell 
you how I found him, and the unhappy conditions 
which ended for him when the kindly Father gave 
him rest in the arms of mother earth.” 

“Here is the letter, Michael dear; I hope it will 
not grieve you too badly. I am anticipating, dearest, 
that you have something to tell me that is to bring 
happiness to me, for the last letter I received from 
our baby, she was in Florence studying carving and 
sculpturing with that renowned artist, Manfredo 
Franchi. In a happier moment, I will read the letter 
to you, in which she again had occasion to meet 
Robert in the art gallery of the Pitti Palace.” 

“Yes, Elynor dear, I have the sequel to your story 
and a very happy ending for all of us. It is to be 
my little secret until after I finish the tale of my 


LOOKING BACKWARD 


91 


wanderings in strange lands, and because the climax 
will bring you great joy, it can afford to wait. You 
will then be able to understand better how perfectly 
our heavenly Father worked out the scheme of salva¬ 
tion for us. 

“Now, Elynor dear, I know you are very tired. 
I want you to lie on the cushions and when I finish 
this letter, I want you to take a short nap, as I am 
going to introduce my little queen to the captain 
to-night and he has arranged a special menu. He is 
going to kill the fatted calf for the return of the 
prodigal.” 

After Michael had made Elynor comfortable, she 
lay gazing at him with an adoring look in her eyes. 
Michael began to read the message from the mouth of 
that babe, who knew only the truth, and at these 
tender years felt that the love of her mother was the 
only thing necessary for the time being to guide her 
and lead her aright. Obediently, if sadly, she readily 
gave up the childish sentiment that later grew into a 
deathless devotion. 


“Ringenburg, Switzerland, 
“October 8, 19—. 

“My darling Mother: 

“By some strange fatality, the warning letter you 
wrote me, failed to reach me, and fate would have it 
that it fall into my hands several years later. 

“Lady Lura’s secretary was ill, and she requested 
me to assort her mail, which had accumulated during 
our absence. Hidden away in a pigeonhole in her 
desk was the letter, which would have saved me from 
the heartache and pain, which it inflicts now, had I 
received it in due time. The sting of it would have 


92 


I OBJECT 


been softened by my failing to understand my loss, 
and I would not have felt the great void in my heart 
when I gave up Robert.” 

“Now you know, Mother, why I seemed to ignore 
the letter in which you asked me to give up a childish 
affection. If I had only received it in time, your 
broken-hearted little girl would be writing in a 
different strain, for, with the years I would have for¬ 
gotten Robert. I met him again in Florence and 
was compelled to tell him that very day that it was 
better we give up our dream of happiness. I know 
you would have been deeply grieved could you have 
seen his expression, and particularly as it was pre¬ 
ceded by the following conversation, which tells you 
what high spirits he was in when we saw him at the 
Pitti Palace in the Boboli Gardens. He was standing 
in front of the grotto in which were the unfinished 
statues of the Four Captives by Michelangelo, which 
were modeled for the monument of Pope Julius II. 
The reason I lay stress on this grotto and the un¬ 
finished models of Michelangelo, is because Robert 
was teasing me and asked if I had learned to be a 
great artist and could finish the masterpieces that 
this great genius had left incomplete. I answered 
that he needn’t laugh at me; that if a ‘Joan of Arc’ 
could have saved France, through faith alone, per¬ 
haps the inspiration would come to me to produce 
masterpieces, too.” 

“I think, Mother, that Robert was very much 
ashamed for having taunted me as he did. You will 
note by the answer he made me, how thoroughly 
repentant he was. He said: ‘I am sorry, dear; I 
did not mean to hurt your feelings. It is true, I 
was speaking lightly to you, but I do know that 


LOOKING BACKWARD 


93 


geniuses are born and not made. You can’t acquire 
the power to produce a masterpiece, and as you are 
still young, it might be that somewhere deep in the 
recesses of that noble brow lie hidden thoughts that 
may some day startle the world. Many of our great 
masters produced their most wonderful creations in 
middle life and so, dear one, we cannot tell what the 
future will bring forth.’ 

“Mother, dear, I told him what wonderful strides 
I was making with my studies with Signor Franchi, 
and I showed him the letter you wrote me acknowl¬ 
edging the glove box I sent you. You know, Signor 
Franchi’s father refused to believe that I had not 
studied in America when he saw my first design for 
the floral decoration on the box. I am so glad that you 
are pleased to know that I have discovered I can get 
a great deal of comfort out of the work I am doing. 

“Signor Franchi is sending you a wonderful Savon¬ 
arola chair, which is an exact reproduction of the 
one that famous monk used in the monastery in which 
he was imprisoned. He is sending with it a gorgeously 
carved back for the chair, which you may use when¬ 
ever you like. It has the Italian coat-of-arms on the 
seat and I know you will treasure it. I hope some 
day to reach that stage of perfection when I will be 
a worthy pupil of this gifted master. 

“Perhaps, Mother, it was not intended that I should 
have a home of my own. It is possible that I am to 
live and devote myself to brightening and making 
happier the lives of others. I shall prove my love for 
Robert by renunciation, which, after all, is the great¬ 
est form of love. In giving up Robert, whom I love 
more than my own life, I am making my choice be¬ 
tween love and duty, and my duty is to you, my dear, 


94 


I OBJECT 


beloved Mother. I know now, as you so clearly 
point out, that happiness could not be possible with¬ 
out the blessing of my darling Mother and without 
the sanction of my divine Father. 

“I know, Mother, that God said, 'Make unto your¬ 
selves no graven images,’ and should I pretend to wor¬ 
ship Robert and exclude you and God, our love would 
not be complete. If Robert were of my faith, that 
would be different, but under the circumstances, our 
union would not be a happy one.” 

"You are right, Mother. I did not give Robert 
my reason for discontinuing our friendship. I could 
not tell him the truth and I would not sully my lips 
with a lie and so if Robert understands that religious 
differences caused our separation, he said nothing 
about it. I know that his faith is so intense that 
I could not ask him to give it up for me. On the 
other hand, knowing my sentiments as you do, and 
even though you express in your letter your willing¬ 
ness and readiness to give me up, if it be for my hap¬ 
piness, I know that I would not be happy and I 
would be very unfair to you, who have already suf¬ 
fered so much, to let my own selfish interests again 
darken your life.” 

"Yes, Mother dear, what a glorious thing it would 
be, as you say, if we could forget religious differences 
and recognize that we are the children of one Father 
and that one God created us all. I know now that 
until that time comes, Robert and I can mean nothing 
to each other.” 

"I am sorry that you misunderstood me, when I 
told you that many people married who did not 
permit religion to enter into the contract, and were 
quite happy. What I meant to say, was, that in 


LOOKING BACKWARD 


95 


time I could prove to Robert’s entire satisfaction 
that my conception of God was so simple to under¬ 
stand that he would have no difficulty in seeing 
the force of my argument in favor of a simplified 
belief/’ 

“I know, Mother, that I am going to surprise you 
when I tell you that I really do not think Robert is 
fully convinced that he is absolutely right in his 
belief. I put a direct question to him one day, and 
asked him what it was that made him so positive 
his version of the religion, that came after ours, was 
the correct one. He hesitated for quite a while, and 
then startled me by saying that ‘the only answer 
I can make to that question is that I never had 
occasion to discuss it with anyone before.’ He 
said he saw no reason to enter into a quarrel with 
anyone that would prove nothing to him. Of course, 
Mother dear, he said he was only too happy to dis¬ 
cuss it with me, because if he could convince me of the 
truth of his statements, he would find everlasting 
happiness, and make me see God in the true light.” 

“I think that was the first time I was a little angry 
with Robert. Why should he think that you had not 
been as careful and particular about instructing me 
in religious matters, as his mother had been in in¬ 
structing him? However, I let it pass becau.se I 
knew that if you agreed, after we were married, 
Robert soon would have seen that he was wrong and 
I was right. I see, Mother, that I was mistaken 
in this, too, for grandmother’s tragic experience, fol¬ 
lowed by your own unhappy life, proves to me the 
fallacy of my reasoning.” 

“Yes, Mother, I am very sad, but not really un¬ 
happy, as I would be if I didn’t -see it wasn t so much 


96 


I OBJECT 


what you said, but my close association with Robert 
for the last few years and his views on religious sub¬ 
jects, that gradually proved to me that our happi¬ 
ness in the home might be problematical. This was 
brought forcibly to me by a little experience Lady 
Lura and I had in Paris.” 

“You know, Mother, Lady Lura has reason to love 
the Jews, because she has been associated with them 
many years in her philanthropic work and knows 
how generous and Godfearing they are. Of course, 
she has done everything to encourage me to always 
adhere to my religious training. Whenever we are in 
a small city, and it is not possible to go to a temple to 
worship, Lady Lura always takes me to a larger city 
when a holiday season is approaching, so that I may 
go to the temple.” 

“Lady Lura had taken me to Reims to see that 
marvelous cathedral. The following day was Yom 
Kippur, so she arranged that we spend the week in 
Paris. We went into the information bureau of the 
American Express Company, and asked where the 
temple was located. A man standing at the desk 
heard us. He turned and said, in a joking tone, 
‘Why do you want to know that?’ 

“The young man who was about to give us the 
information, asked me to step inside as he would like 
to talk with me. He then told me, Mother, that in 
Europe it was not customary to speak of things 
Jewish in public and therefore, since I did not have 
Semitic features, the man must have thought it a 
huge joke that I should be interested in a Jewish 
house of worship.” 

“Oh, Mother darling, would that the Creator give 
me this great mission—inspire me to bring light into 


LOOKING BACKWARD 


97 


this darkened world. Why must we quarrel amongst 
ourselves and stand divided on the only question 
that is so easily answered? All God asks us to do is 
‘love one another/ I find it so easy to do this and 
the reason I feel the loss of Robert’s love so keenly, 
is because it is so unnecessary that man-made laws 
should separate two beings who are intended for each 
other.” 

“I heard a very pretty story the other day, Mother, 
I can’t remember the details and just what king it 
was that wanted to prove that love will find a way. 
A wise king had placed a maiden in a tower, far out 
at sea, in order to convince himself if it were possible 
that a mate could come to her out there. He sent 
her food every day by a carrier pigeon. One day the 
pigeon came back and brought a note that the maiden 
needed food for two. A vessel had been wrecked, so 
the story goes, and a youth swam to the tower to 
save himself. I am sure he did not ask her what her 
faith was, nor did she ask him that! 

“Why should it be necessary to wrap ourselves in 
mantles that proclaim to the world our separateness, 
because of religious differences? We are human 
intensely human—dogmatic teachings have raised bar¬ 
riers that have made life so full of complexities, and 
so unbearable that instead of blessing the. Creator 
and Ruler of the universe, we blaspheme .Him every 
hour of the day. Even those of us who think we lead 
righteous lives are injuring our fellow-men in some 
form or other, if it be only in separateness.” 

“Mother, darling, you have never been to Europe 
and so, therefore, if I seem too young to speak of 
these things understanding^, it is because you do 
not know how complete one’s education can be when 

7 


98 


I OBJECT 


they have finished a pilgrimage, so to speak, starting 
at the portals of what was once non-Christian Rome 
and which to-day is instinct with the highest form of 
civilization. We visited the tomb of St. Calixtus, 
and there in a niche lies a plaster paris cast of St. 
Cecilia, the patroness of music, where she was thrown 
after her martyrdom, and in all the catacombs in 
that great underground world, of this most marvel¬ 
ous city, are the bleaching bones of the great mar¬ 
tyrs of Christendom. Mother, Mother, what a 
monster that Roman ruler was when he threw all 
those Christians to the lions in the Colosseum! Just 
a short walk, and triumphantly, St. Peter raises its 
dome, and flings back its challenge to the ruins which 
bear witness to the criminality of a benighted ruler. 

“My darling Mother, you have heard the horrible 
news, of course. We are going to have war, and 
they say it is going to be a world war. Lady Lura 
and I are going to remain in Europe. We know there 
will be work to do, and I am sure you will be willing 
and glad for me to help, if it is necessary. Lady Lura 
said they will need nurses. I shall consider it a great 
privilege if they will accept me. Please don’t be un¬ 
happy—please don’t worry. I know that you will do 
your part, so please don’t prevent me from doing 
mine. It will help to ease the pain, and I will not feel 
Robert’s loss so much. He told me that he has al¬ 
ready enlisted and is going to study gas engines, as he 
hopes to eventually be able to get into the air service. 

“I will write you every day, Mother, dear. God 
bless you. I know there are big things for me to do 
and I am ready, and I say just as Robert said, ‘One 
life to give and that belongs to my country.’ 

“Always your baby girl, “Lura. 


LOOKING BACKWARD 


99 


“P. S.—Lady Lura sends her love. She also wishes 
you to tell the duchess she is writing her to-day, and 
not to worry. We are going to remain in Switzer¬ 
land until the call comes. We will cable you every 
day.” 

Elynor watched Michael closely as he read Lura’s 
letter and each emotion brought forth by the beautiful, 
noble thoughts of their daughter, reflected itself 
in his face. He stopped at intervals to caress and 
fondle Elynor. When he finished reading the letter, 
he handed it back to Elynor and the look of quiet 
content and happiness in their faces was a joy for¬ 
ever to behold. Their hearts were beating in unison, 
and their minds accepting with thanksgiving the 
joy which those of mature years can so fully under¬ 
stand and appreciate. Elynor’s hand rested linger¬ 
ingly in Michael’s and when he was about to rise, 
she tightened her clasp and looked at him with 
alarm. She feared that she might awaken from some 
dream, as she had not as yet familiarized herself 
with the reality. 

“Michael, darling,” she whispered, “please don’t 
leave me yet—let me tell you of my brother now and 
before the shades of evening fall we will bury the dark 
past and turn our backs to the west with our faces 
fronting the east. Michael, I want to bathe in the sun¬ 
light—I want to rejuvenate myself again—I want to 
make up to you the years which were filled with 
shadows.” 

“Elynor, my own, Ma Cherie ,” Michael answered, 
“to me you will always be the little girl of yesterday. 
I left you while you were still in the freshness of 
youth and beauty and find you very little changed. 


3 

i 

j > 
> * 


i •» > 


100 


I OBJECT 


I wish, my sweetheart, it were possible to come back 
to you as clean as I left you. I say these things, only, 
dear, because I want you to know that the many 
ungodly things I have done since I went away were 
due to my revolt and what I deemed a mockery of the 
Almighty.” 

“Iam ready to listen to the story of your brother, 
and let us hope that that will be the only dark page 
with which we will close the book of misfortune for 
you. After dinner I shall relate only those adventures 
which will have direct bearing on the subject of how I 
was regenerated and was able to come back to my 
own, feeling that my suffering would make amends for 
the great wrong I had done you.” 

“Elynor, dear, this time I must insist that when 
you finish the story of your brother, you take a short 
nap. I want you to be fresh as a rose for the dinner 
to-night. The storm is subsiding—the sun is shining 
and on the morrow the indications are that we will 
sail under blue skies with no cloud to mar the horizon. 
I promise you now, Elynor, that never again will 
aught befall you that will bring you a moment’s 
unhappiness. My one aim and ambition in life will 
be to gratify your slightest wish and I want you to 
promise me that in spite of the many dark tales I 
mean to tell you at the promised fireside, you will 
always remember it was my great love for you that 
drove me to the depths of despair and so nearly 
destroyed my manhood.” 

Elynor gazed steadily at him while he was speak¬ 
ing, raised herself slightly and with a lingering kiss, 
cut off all further speech. Then she began the story 
of her brother—the unfortunate one—the little 
crushed idol who was sacrificed to vicious habits. 


LOOKING BACKWARD 


101 


“Michael, darling, I am going to tell you now 
some of the incidents that you knew nothing about 
in those first days when my brother and I became 
members of your family. You know that I was 
perfectly content and happy in your household be¬ 
cause of my childish admiration for you. I will not 
dwell on that, as the principal thing I am aiming to 
do is to exonerate my brother and make you think 
of him in a more kindly way.” 

“The poor child, as you know, was a weakling, 
and the only one he was interested in was our father. 
He loved me in a sort of a way, but never would 
confide in me, and as you know, he disliked you and 
your mother heartily. I did my very best to take the 
place of father and mother to him as nearly as was pos¬ 
sible, but I was not very successful in influencing him 
and making him obey me. 

“Michael, dear, you don’t know that one night the 
child came home in a deplorable state. I didn’t tell 
you because I was ashamed of him. His shirt was 
torn to shreds and he was badly bruised about the 
eyes and had several deep cuts on his arms and shoul¬ 
ders. I think what made it so horrible, was that the 
odor of liquor was so apparent. I knew that what¬ 
ever the nature of the trouble had been, he was in no 
condition to give me a coherent account of what had 
happened. Your mother was not home that night, 
fortunately, and I succeeded in putting him to bed 
after bandaging his wounds; he immediately fell 
asleep.” 

“I remember that I did not disrobe and laid down 
beside him. While watching him, many dark, bit¬ 
ter thoughts flitted through my brain, and a sort 
of rebellion arose in me, that we should be among 


102 


I OBJECT 


the unfortunate victims of circumstances. I recall, 
that in my childish way, I would not even say a prayer. 
I did not feel as if there was a God in a world that 
would permit innocent children to suffer through 
no fault of their own. We did not come into the 
world of our own accord, and if we had to be deprived 
of our natural protectors at such an early age, why 
didn’t the Father, who was a God of love, foresee 
what might happen and arrange for a safe haven 
where we could be guarded until we reached the age 
of understanding?” 

“I know, Michael dear, this seems very ungrateful 
on my part to have had such thoughts, when you and 
your dear mother tried so hard to make us happy 
and cared for us so tenderly. You would not blame 
me had you seen my little brother that night when 
he was so sadly in need of a mother’s loving care and 
a father’s protecting love. I will not dwell on all 
my thoughts that night; there was no strain of 
philosophy in them, as there is to-day—it was just 
the simple, childish heart crying out for understand¬ 
ing and love.” 

“Please Michael, don’t let it affect you—I can’t 
help crying,” she said. Brushing away her tears 
and summoning a smile to her lips, she continued: 

“I fell asleep beside my brother, and when I wak¬ 
ened sometime during the night, he had his arms 
around me. His poor little bruised head was resting 
on my shoulder and I felt the little form quivering 
with the sobs he tried to suppress. That was the 
first time he had ever shown me any affection, and 
I think I owe it to that night that the mother instinct 
awakened in me. I asked him no questions—just 
stroked his head and told him to go to sleep. Then 


LOOKING BACKWARD 


103 


he said, ‘I want my daddy. I know my daddy would 
have whipped those boys if he had seen them make 
me take that whisky.’ Then I knew, Michael, how 
the whole thing had happened.” 

“The boys were just out for a lark—they called 
it fun to make him drink. I was not old enough to 
understand what that first glass of whisky meant. 
It was only in later years that the full force of 
what brother said that night came to me with all its 
tragic sidelights. I did everything in my power from 
that day on to make him have faith in me. For a 
little while he was very good, and I thought I would 
be able to change him and make the man of him that 
I hoped he would be, but it was beyond my puny 
strength to cope with this evil which was in his blood.” 

“I remember distinctly, Michael, the Friday night 
you caught him with the decanter of liquor after you 
had finished saying the blessing at dinner. I was 
standing behind the door and saw you snatch the 
bottle out of his hands, as he was about to put it to 
his lips. I heard you speak reprovingly to him. A few 
days later he disappeared.” 

“I noticed that your mother seemed rather re¬ 
lieved, but you will never know how many sleepless 
and unhappy nights I spent wondering what had 
become of him. I know you made every effort to 
trace him, but he had disappeared so completely 
that it seemed as if the earth had opened and swal¬ 
lowed him. About a year later, I accidentally met 
some companions of his and they told me he had 
shown them a letter, in which he was asked to come 
and work on a ranch out West. I was relieved 
to know that he was at least alive, but as I was so 
helpless, there was nothing I could do. 


104 


I OBJECT 


“You were having so much trouble in your own 
family life that I kept this from you, because I felt 
it was sufficiently good of your dear mother and you 
to keep me and care for me as you did. Whenever 
I thought of my brother, I pictured him as he was 
that night, my little broken idol.” 

“As I grew into womanhood, I waited anxiously 
for the day when I would be free to go out into the 
world and start a search for him. In the meantime, 
you know, dear, the great love that came into my 
life momentarily drove out all other thoughts. It 
was very selfish on my part not to have made an effort 
to locate him, even though I would have aroused 
the displeasure of yourself and your mother by 
doing so. I blame myself for this lack of willpower 
on my part, and have often questioned since whether 
a great deal of my punishment was not because 
of this neglect of fulfilling a sacred duty. My dear 
mother, in her dying hour, had enjoined me to 
look after my brother. The only request she made of 
me in that solemn moment, I failed to comply with.” 

“Elynor, darling,” said Michael, “your experiences, 
I am sure, have brought you to the understanding 
that we are not always the arbiters of our own lives. 
Circumstances sometimes arrange themselves so that 
we cannot battle against a fixed set of conditions. 
You yourself were a child and helpless. You could 
do nothing for your brother. You don’t know how 
earnestly I searched for him. I made every effort 
to find him; I followed up every clue and it is un¬ 
fortunate that you did not mention the incident 
of the letter to me. Had I known of it, perhaps 
the clue would have led to the finding of him. There 
are some things that we cannot and will never un- 


LOOKING BACKWARD 


105 


derstand, and perhaps that is God’s plan. Our 
greatest philosophers have been unable to reach a 
definite agreement as to why certain things are. 
It is hard to explain why the ripe peach, with the rosy 
cheeks, has sometimes imbedded in it a worm, and 
our speculating and trying to account for it leads us 
to nothing accurate as to its significance.” 

‘‘All that I can see in the story that you are telling 
me so far, is that through your brother, it was evi¬ 
dently intended to demonstrate to mankind the evil 
brought on by a vicious mode of living and over- 
indulgence and immoderate use of all things placed 
within the reach of self-governing individuals.” 

“We are endowed with the faculty to choose be¬ 
tween right and wrong and when we do not abuse, 
and use sanely and wisely, the manifold gifts of the 
Creator, which we find in the luscious juice of the 
grape—i n t he seed which is planted in the rich soil— 
in the flowing brook, which quenches our thirst 
in the deep recesses of the earth, where are embedded 
gems of priceless worth, to warm and protect us from 
wintry blasts—yes, when we keep these faculties 
unimpaired, from all these wondrous sources spring 
lifegiving elements, and Elynor, darling, when I laid 
the burden upon you, demonstrated to mankind 
that to each is given the task allotted to carry 
through life’s journey. Yours, my darling, was to 
point the way to all women that a noble life con¬ 
secrated to wifehood and to motherhood, brings its 
own rich reward.” 

“To me was given the divine privilege of finding 
myself. Through my great suffering, I came to the 
realization that love, whether it be of earth or of 
heaven, is divine, and if in my heart, God implanted 



106 


I OBJECT 


you as the ideal, then it must be your beautiful 
little hand that will lead me to the Creator.’* 

“In you, my sweetheart, I have discovered the 
three valuable gifts which are the heritage of man¬ 
kind. You were my beacon light leading me ever 
onward to hope. The way you received me, proves 
your great charity; your unquestioning belief in me, 
shows me the wisdom of your faith.” 

“Michael, my brave, noble hero,” Elynor said, 
with a look of wonder on her face, “I am afraid you 
are exaggerating the part I played in our tragic 
story. In all the years of your wandering, you were 
alone, while I had our darling baby, our Hope, to 
cheer and comfort me. You graciously accept the 
larger share of blame. My dear one, I have never 
for a moment accused you of unworthiness. I have 
loved you and trusted you always, and I do not yet 
know why the Almighty has blessed me so. I thought 
the sun had set, but I see that only a cloud hid it 
for a time. Michael, darling, I am so happy—so 
happy, I am sure if I took your hand and stepped out 
on yonder waves, this great sustaining inner light 
would carry us onward and upward, and love and life 
for us would be everlasting.” 

“I had intended to dwell at length on the story of 
my brother, but I find it unnecessary now. I will 
tell you in as few words as possible how I found 
him in Japan. You have pointed out clearly to me 
that he came for a purpose which we do not under¬ 
stand. ‘The Lord giveth—the Lord taketh away— 
blessed be the name of the Lord.’ ” 

Michael’s tears were now mingling with those of 
Elynor’s. “Come, darling,” said Michael, “finish the 


LOOKING BACKWARD 


107 


story now; you are making yourself very unhappy. 
‘Let the dead past bury its dead.’ 

“Michael, dear,” Ely nor began, “Lady Gertrude 
Madeline Haley, a cousin of Lady Lura’s, had planned 
a trip to Japan and asked me to accompany her. 
She was very much interested in the great evil that 
had suddenly attacked our country, which was not 
only destroying the finest specimens of manhood, 
but even many women were forming this fright¬ 
ful habit, which is to-day the greatest menace to 
future generations. As you know, dear, prohibition 
in America struck at the saloons, which were the 
cradles of crime, and in which crooked minds con¬ 
ceived of the most fiendish plots to destroy the life 
and the property of the unwary individual. These 
places were suddenly closed, which was a blessed 
thing for America, but unfortunately, instead of 
carrying out its great aim and mission to restore to 
men their self-respect, and the recognition of the debt 
they owe to their communities by living clean and 
decent lives, it raised a spectre which is beyond their 
power to cope with. Far back in the hills a new 
poison was brewed, and a poison from which many 
predict that the next century will find much of the 
population blind.” 

“Of course, Michael, it seems strange that I should 
speak to you of such things; you, who have been all 
over the world and have seen the evil brought on by 
this pernicious influence, but dear one, it has not 
been brought home to you as it has to me. The 
frightful consequences which this terrible habit brings, 
destroys the man himself and brings disaster in its 
wake. You know, Michael, they say ‘those whom 


108 


I OBJECT 


the gods wish to destroy, they first make mad/ 
We know that Nero was drunk when Rome burned, 
and so we find through the ages that wherever, 
there is an act of lawlessness we can invariably trace 
it to the abuse of this liquid which makes the blood 
turn to fire and attacks and destroys the seat of 
reason.” 

“Michael, dear, do not think that I am against 
drink. In the Passover Feast the cup is filled, 
but throughout the feast we are admonished to 
drink only at the close, as many cups as we think 
will still leave us normal enough to feel only a sense of 
exhilaration and joy which is instilled in us from the 
fruit of the grape.” 

“Michael! Michael! I found my brother in Japan. 

I won’t go into details. For the craving of whisky, 
he had substituted that white powdered substance 
that destroys—destroys! You have seen how the dope 
fiend sinks into the mire, in which the crawling things 
of the earth become his companions. So I found my 
brother—a raving maniac—an outcast—a thing of 
shame—in the slums of Japan. When I found him he 
was dying. Some of his low companions were with 
him. I called an eminent physician, but it was too 
late; nothing could be done. He never recognized 
me.” 

“Michael, in that room I took out the parts of the 
broken cross which my mother had given me, and 
which you thought I cherished because of the sig¬ 
nificance of what the symbol stands for, but you were 
wrong. I did not need the cross to know of that di¬ 
vine One who came to dwell among us for so short 
a time.” 

“There lay the lifeless form of my brother on the 



LOOKING BACKWARD 


109 


divan, and they were preparing him for his grave. 
His arms were outstretched and his head had slightly 
fallen. Michael, we have been blind. We needed no 
cross. In that little, dark, smelly room, with the dim 
light flickering from a candle, which someone had 
placed in a broken bottle, I saw my brother on the 
pillory. His human body was the cross. I took the 
two broken bits and placed them over his heart. I 
knew then, that when my father crushed that 
emblem, he had opened an abyss between us. It was 
not my privilege to bring him out of the dark depths 
into which he had fallen.” 

“His companions offered to take charge of the body 
for me. My grief was so great and I did not want 
that noble girl, Lady Madeline, to know of the depths 
of disgrace my brother had fallen into, so I consented 
to have them accompany the body to America.” 

“I am going to finish by one of the most tragic fea¬ 
tures in the entire story of this altogether, useless, 
worthless life. When we landed on American soil, 
these men, who accompanied my brother’s body, 
were recognized as smugglers of opium into the United 
States. This threw suspicion on my brother’s body. 
They desecrated the dead; they opened the coffin and 
they found, Michael, that his entrails had been 
removed and that frightful drug had been sub¬ 
stituted, which was to continue to undermine the 
strength of the structure, which we call civiliza¬ 
tion.” 

So ended the dark chapter. Elynor was sobbing on 
Michael’s breast. Tenderly—tenderly—he laid her on 
the divan. He poured a glass of wine and whispered: 
“Now, my darling, I want you to drink this and go 
to sleep. When I return I expect you to greet me 


no I OBJECT 

with a smile and put all sad thoughts out of your 
mind.” 

“I am going to stop in to see Dr. Hammel now. 
I owe a great deal to this capable surgeon. He was 
not feeling well when I left him this morning.” 

Michael waited for a few moments, and when he 
saw that Elynor had fallen asleep, he left the cabin. 
He had just entered Dr. Hammel’s cabin, when sud¬ 
denly he was startled by the loud report of a gun, 
which had so frightened the duchess and Harold. 
Dr. Hammel rose excitedly and both of them rushed 
in the direction whence the shots came. 


Chapter XII 


Marie’s Father Appears 

The duchess stared over Harold’s shoulder aghast 
at the spectacle with which she was confronted. 
Towering over the prostrate body of the girl’s com¬ 
panion, stood a tall, old man with rugged face, who 
held a gun in his hand. His shoulders were bent and 
he looked as if he were transfixed with horror by the 
sudden catastrophe. On each side of him stood a 
plain-clothes man. 

Then the duchess’ attention became centered on the 
face of the old man, and she could never explain to 
her own satisfaction why she should have glanced 
back again at the photograph which she held clutched 
in her hand, when the fierce quarrel began to rage 
across the way. Her eyes grew larger as she gazed 
at it, and the mystery became so baffling, that she 
finally gave up the problem. 

Searchingly, her eyes traveled into the far recesses 
of the corridor, and huddled there was the girl. The 
blood was flowing from her shoulder and while 
she seemed conscious, she was weakly supporting 
herself on the brass rail which stretched across the 
corridor. 

Harold’s anguished gaze followed that of the 
duchess and in a twinkling of an eye he was at the 
side of the girl. He lifted her in his arms and at 
a commanding gesture from the duchess, brought her 
into the cabin and quickly closed the door. 

Ill 


112 


I OBJECT 


At that moment Michael appeared on the scene 
with the captain and Dr. Edwin Hammel. They 
had to open a passageway through the throngs that 
were standing on the staircases and in the corridors. 
The shots had brought together all the passengers 
within hearing distance and on order from the 
captain, the stewards requested the passengers to 
clear the passageways, so an investigation could be 
made as to how this terrible tragedy Ead taken 
place. 

Dr. Hammel hastened to the side of the dying 
man, who was murmuring some incoherent words 
which the doctor could not understand. The doctor 
called Michael, knowing him to be familiar with all 
languages. The dying man whispered his message 
into the ears of Michael, closed his eyes, and gasped 
—and the face settled into the immobility of death. 
In the meantime, the captain had given orders that 
all traces of the struggle be removed, and the body 
carried from the scene. 

Michael hurriedly knocked at the duchess’ door 
and he and Dr. Hammel entered. The wounded girl 
was lying on the divan and Harold was staunching 
the blood which was still flowing freely. The doctor 
went quickly to the divan and examined the girl’s 
shoulder. The bullet had grazed the shoulder blade, 
and inflicted but a very slight wound. He bandaged 
the shoulder and the girl was left in care of the maid, 
while he and the duchess and Michael went to the 
captain’s quarters, the doctor having requested Har¬ 
old to remain with her until they returned. They 
were all concerned about the man who had so sud¬ 
denly and strangely appeared on the scene. The 
duchess recalled the conversation between the dead 


MARIE’S FATHER APPEARS 


113 


man and the injured girl on the night before, and 
slowly was forced on her the realization that in some 
way this old man was not only the father of the girl, 
but Elynor would form one of the links in this 
eventful and extraordinary series of strange happen¬ 
ings. 

She looked at Michael with much concern. A 
nameless fear was clutching at her heart. Was the 
bright sun, which had suddenly shone forth upon 
these overcast lives, again to be dimmed by a new 
tragedy? Were Michael’s and Elynor’s lives to be 
made up of clouds with a promised silver lining which 
would never materialize? It was all too madden¬ 
ing—she would think of it no more. 

By this time the duchess, Michael, and the doctor 
had reached the captain’s quarters, where the old 
man had been conducted, and there they found 
assembled the captain, his mate, and the two plain¬ 
clothes men. The old man was about to tell his 
story when they entered, but waited until they were 
seated. 

“I will tell you as nearly as I can of the events that 
led up to the shooting,” began the stranger. 

“If I will not tax your patience too much, I will first 
of all explain the presence of the two plain clothes 
men. I noticed before I boarded the steamer that 
they had been following me and I evaded them.” 

“Yes,” answered one of the men, “we were in the 
loan shop in which you bought the gun, and as we 
saw that you were a stranger, we followed you to 
your wife’s grave and there heard your confession. 
While one of the men kept his eye on you, I reported 
it at headquarters, but the man who was watching 
you, got chicken-hearted and let you escape. It 


8 


114 


I OBJECT 


was an accident that I again saw you. You had 
jumped into a cab and I followed you to the dock. 
You got away from me in the crowd, but I made up 
my mind that I would watch everybody that got on 
the steamer. I caught sight of one of our men, and 
told him to phone headquarters for instructions. He 
came back and said we should board the steamer 
and get all the information we could until we got 
to Sandy Hook, and if we did not find you by that 
time, give up the chase.” 

“We followed instructions and made a hurried 
search, but could not find you and decided to give 
you up. As we were about to leave the vessel we 
caught sight of you again and let the pilot go off with¬ 
out us, and so we swung back into the vessel.” 

“Thirty years ago, I became a fugitive and a 
hunted man,” continued the old man. “When I mar¬ 
ried and tried to establish a home, I left out a very 
important factor and that was God, the Creator. My 
wife, who was a very devout woman, made every ef¬ 
fort to bring me to an understanding that my scoffing 
and irreverence for my Maker would eventually lead 
me into the wrong path, but I only laughed at her 
and found that not being compelled to follow a 
set line of conduct, I could do many tilings that 
simplified life for me and made it much easier and 
pleasanter to live. But after a time I found that 
things were not going so well with me. In the office 
where I was employed, many of my co-workers 
hardly took a step without taking their Maker 
into account, and I noticed that few of them took 
any interest in me and when they were planning 
some social function, somehow my wife and I 
were always excluded from these affairs. I began 


[MARIE’S FATHER APPEARS 


115 


to feel this neglect keenly and so vented my anger on 
my wife. I noticed that she began to fear me and 
ceased to make any effort to bring me around to her 
way of thinking. I found no pleasure in my home, 
as my wife and I had very little in common, and so on 
my way home I would stop in at a saloon in the neigh¬ 
borhood and not return until late at night.” 

“After our boy came, I took great joy in him, but 
when he was beginning to prattle he said to me re¬ 
proachfully one day: ‘Daddy, why don’t you come 
home every night? Mother cries all of the time.’ 
The reproach on those baby lips, instead of bringing 
us closer together, seemed to make the gulf wider, 
because I knew th^t it was not possible to give up the 
mode of living that I had grown accustomed to. 
Knowing how she worshipped the child, I took a fiend¬ 
ish delight in talking to him against his mother, and I 
think it was because alcohol had gradually done its 
work and paralyzed my faculties to such an extent 
that I was unable to discriminate between good and 
evil.” 

“I did not realize that in carrying out my own 
selfish plan I was forming the mind of the boy and in¬ 
stilling the poison into him. Our little girl, who came 
later, was beyond my jurisdiction, as she clung to her 
mother and was mortally afraid of me. I had, by my 
misbehavior and ill-treatment of my wife, called down 
upon myself the scorn of the entire community and 
my isolation would have been complete had not my 
boy believed in me so entirely. One day I over¬ 
heard a conversation in which I was being severely 
censured for my paganism, and I went into the 
saloon and there in my anger I decided that the 
next time I caught my wife in the act of performing 


116 


I OBJECT 


any religious rites, I would make her decide once and 
for all that if she wanted to continue living with me 
she had to give up her religion. I vaguely remember 
that when I left that saloon I had nothing very definite 
in my mind as to what I meant to do. I was walking 
towards my home when I saw my wife come out of a 
building where they sold religious books. I followed 
her home and cannot recall just what happened there. 
When I regained my senses, I was holding aloft a 
part of a broken bottle, my wife was on the floor, 
and my little girl was standing gazing at me with 
terror. I ran from the house and took shelter in an 
old barn on the outskirts of the city. I lay there all 
night and the next morning I heard the boys shout¬ 
ing in the streets, 'Extra, read about the murder.’ 
I crept trembling from my hiding place, bought 
a paper and there saw the whole story, and knew 
there was nothing left for me to do but to fly and 
hide myself away from those who would be on my 
track to turn me over to justice. I could think of 
nowhere that I could go to hide myself from my 
pursuers. I knew one of my sisters had married and 
was living in Vermont, and so I decided if I could 
escape the vigilance of the police I would go to her and 
consult with her as to the best way out of my terrible 
situation. I knew there was a bus leaving that would 
take me to a small neighboring town where I could 
get a train, and as it was still very early I knew that 
a lot of red tape would follow the investigation and 
before the machine of the law had been set in motion 
I would be on my way and out of their reach. I had 
picked up much information from the low element 
that lounged about the saloons and I put it to 
good use.” 


MARIE’S FATHER APPEARS 


117 


“When I boarded the bus I was very nonchalant, 
and as the one topic of conversation was the murder 
of the night before, I joined in it and so warded off 
suspicion. After a little wait, I boarded the train. 
Every sound startled me and when the train stopped 
my heart was filled with a cringing fear. It seemed 
every man on that train was my enemy and I knew 
that every hand would be turned against me if a 
glimmer of suspicion were aroused. When we reached 
Vermont, it was dusk and with a sigh of relief I was 
about to alight from the train when I saw two men 
standing at the entrance guarding the doors. I 
managed to pass by with an air of bravado. I saw one 
of the men look at me closely and then it seemed 
that he was trailing me.” 

“Night had completely fallen by this time and in 
the distance I saw a building lighted up. I was walk¬ 
ing hurriedly and in glancing around again saw this 
man. I rushed across the street, a car came along 
and hid me from view. I dashed into the building, 
which proved to be a church, ran up to the altar and 
hid myself beneath the pulpit.” 

“I waited for about ten minutes, found that no 
one had followed me, and was preparing to leave the 
church when the minister came up the altar steps, and 
some of the members of the congregation began to 
file into the church. There was nothing to do but 
remain in my place of concealment. My heart was 
beating so that I was afraid that the minister could 
hear it, but the organ began to peal out its tones and 
deadened all sound.” 

“I knew it would be but a question of time when 
the minister would discover my presence, and only 
a miracle could save me now. In that moment I 


118 I OBJECT 

would have given twenty years of my life for faith in 
a Supreme Power.” 

“The slightest commotion set me trembling and 
with my sharpened faculties the words of the minister 
rang out like the tones of a trumpet, ‘Vengeance is 
mine, saitli the Lord, I will repay.’ It had been years 
since I entered a church, and the fascination of the 
strange doctrine that this man of God preached, 
struck me with the greater force because of the 
newness of this double experience.” 

“It seemed hours before the congregation was dis¬ 
missed, and finally when everyone had gone and that 
great stillness of peace settled in the atmosphere, 
every sound became audible. The minister was 
wiping his eyeglasses when an incautious movement 
of mine attracted his attention. I knew the best 
thing to do was to come from my hiding place, tell 
my story, and plead for his protection.” 

“He was taken aback when I emerged, but I quickly 
explained what I was doing there and begged that 
we go somewhere so I could tell him my entire 
story. His sermon led me to believe that he would 
help me. He agreed to do this and took me to his 
home.” 

“After I had told him of all the events which led 
up to my unhappy situation, he told me I could 
remain at his home that night and he would decide 
in the morning just how far he could help me.” 

“The next morning he had a long talk with me, 
asked if I would be willing to begin all over again and 
said if I could make provision for my children to be 
properly cared for he would shield me, as my act 
was not deliberate and that I had no intent of com¬ 
mitting a crime.” 


MARIE’S FATHER APPEARS 


119 


“The following day he wrote a letter to my sister, ex¬ 
plaining that I was under his protection and asking 
her to place the children with a distant cousin. He 
gave me a position as sexton in the church. That 
good man accomplished for me what years of effort 
on the part of my martyred wife failed to do.” 

“Five years later, when I had become a part of that 
household, in which the daughter of the house was 
my constant companion, I unfortunately lost my good 
friend. Death stepped in and left the girl alone in the 
world. We were married shortly after and moved out 
West, and after our little girl was born I began to get 
letters from my boy pleading with me to let him 
come and live with us. He said his sister was quite 
happy in the new haven she had found, but he was 
dissatisfied and wanted to get away. I talked it over 
with my wife and we decided to let him come.” 

“I was horrified to find that I had transmitted the 
appetite that had so nearly wrecked my life, to the 
boy, and my one ambition was to cure him of this 
frightful habit which was destroying him.” 

“My daughter heroically put forth her best efforts 
in his behalf, but without avail. When prohibition 
came we had a dreadful time with him, and he would 
resort to all sorts of narcotics in order to satisfy his 
craving for artificial stimulants. He was making us 
very unhappy and one day when I remonstrated with 
him a terrible scene followed and he left. From that 
day our misfortune began. From a prosperous farmer 
in this Western country town, who had the esteem 
and good will of the entire community, I began to lose 
prestige because of this boy’s misdoings. He threw 
suspicion upon our own child, Marie, who had grown 
up a sweet, innocent flower, surrounded as she was 


120 


I OBJECT 


by the beauties of nature and the loving care of a 
mother and father who adored her. Her religious 
training was the most important part of the daily 
routine.” 

"Marie was pointed out as an example—a model 
child among her classmates—and when she grew 
into young womanhood her faith was an inspiration 
to her friends and associates. When she sang at the 
service on Sunday morning, the congregation was 
thrilled by the beauty of her glorious voice.” 

"This scoundrel whom you saw stretched at my 
feet was the instrument that God chose to make 
the guilty pay for the innocence that was sacrificed on 
the altar of self. The daughter whom I abandoned 
is avenged—by the daughter whom I tried to 
safeguard.” 

"That impostor was a wealthy banker from Maine 
and came to me ostensibly to buy some land, but really 
to destroy God s handiwork. One morning when 
mother came to wake Marie with her usual cheery 
good-morning kiss, Marie was gone. On the table we 
found a note telling us that she had left with the 
stranger, a man who was not of our faith, and would 
not understand this beautiful fragile flower that he 
no doubt meant to crush.” 

"We searched everywhere for her, but the search 
was futile. One day a letter came telling us she 
was happily married to this man of her choice, but 
had kept silent as she knew that we would never allow 
her to marry outside of her faith. The shock of it 
broke her mother’s heart, and killed her. I finally 
left the village, with but one thought in mind—to 
kill the man who had robbed me of my daughter, 
broken my home, destroyed my happiness and taken 


MARIE’S FATHER APPEARS 


121 


all my treasures. In her letter she gave the date of 
the sailing of the vessel on which they were going 
abroad, and I made a hasty journey to New York 
to take the same steamer.” 

“It was a simple matter to embark and remain in 
my cabin until the opportunity presented itself to 
carry out my purpose.” 

“I crept up to their door on different occasions and 
got fragments of their conversation, but each time 
it was impossible to carry out my purpose as the 
occupants of the suite facing them could see anyone 
loitering in the corridor.” 

“However, I did not neglect an opportunity, and 
when I caught a glimpse of Marie sitting at the piano 
playing her mother’s favorite song, ‘Just Awearyin’ 
for You,’ my heart melted to my little girl—but, 
only to my little girl. The degraded creature at the 
piano was not my little girl. I had no sympathy 
with her late repentance—she had ruined our lives— 
the future held nothing more for me.” 

“I had bought a gun when in New York, determined 
that if my suspicions of that scoundrel were verified 
—that if he had betrayed and deceived Marie, I 
would put an end to three worthless lives. Before 
doing this, I went to the grave of my martyred wife 
and begged on bended knees that she plead with the 
Father to forgive this last unholy act, which would 
expiate my fault and which would ‘Render unto 
Caesar the things which are Caesar’s’—‘An Eye for 
an Eye—A Tooth for a Tooth—A Life for a Life.’ 

“This vulture had taken the light from my eye and 
with the treacherous tongue of the serpent, he had 
destroyed the Eden in which God had created man 
guileless. I would not hesitate to send the soul of 



122 


I OBJECT 


the girl to its Maker, because her last words that I 
overheard were repentance. As for that scoundrel, 
he polluted all things pure. As for myself, for the 
life I took, I would render mine.” 

At last light came to the Duchess. The story was 
Elynor’s story—the man was Elynor’s father—the 
girl was Elynor’s sister. Truth proved stranger than 
fiction; the improbable had happened. How would 
it all end? 

Michael escorted the duchess back to her cabin, 
and she was greatly relieved when he told her that 
he had left Elynor fast asleep, and said that he hoped 
he could keep the tragedy from her. He did not want 
to destroy her new-found happiness. He also told 
the duchess of his plans for the evening. 

Michael then left the duchess and joined the cap¬ 
tain to make arrangements for the disposal of the 
body. This left the duchess free to think out a course 
whereby the girl could be reconciled to her father. 
She said no word to Harold, who was in earnest con¬ 
versation with Marie, and although he looked at the 
duchess inquiringly, she did not look as if she cared 
to discuss the thing any further for the moment. 

She entered her sleeping apartment and threw 
herself on the bed. Lucy had lowered the shades 
and the duchess made an effort to fight off a seasick 
feeling. 

The vessel was plunging, and although the fog 
had lifted, the storm which came afterwards was 
abating, but was still washing the exposed end of the 
deck and many of the passengers who were beginning 
to feel the effects of the storm had confined them¬ 
selves to their rooms. The duchess was chilled to 
the bone, and Lucy prepared her a cup of hot tea and 


MARIE’S FATHER APPEARS 


123 


added some cognac to it and the soothing drink 
brought oblivion to her for a few hours. When she 
awakened, Lucy told her that Marie had slept for a 
little while and that Harold had returned to his 
cabin and left a message that he was at the duchess’ 
command at any time she felt the need to call on him. 


Chapter XIII 


Marie Asks Forgiveness 

When the duchess had finished dressing, she went 
into the lounge and asked Marie whether she felt 
well enough to go to her father. Marie replied, 
“Duchess, I will be only too happy to be reconciled 
to my father, if you think he will take me back again. 
I will try to make amends for my wrongdoing by 

devoting myself to him and my art, for the rest of 
my life.” 

Yes, Marie, ’ said the duchess, “I am sure you 
have had your lesson and that you now know that 
there is only one road that we can travel in safety, 
and that is the straight and narrow path, which, 
though it may not always lead to happiness, will 
bring peace at the end of the journey. Stand up, 
Marie, and if you feel strong enough, we will go to 
your father immediately. We have had enough 
tragedy for one day and the spirit of gloom on the 
steamer must be dispelled. We will try to explain 
that the shooting was accidental and keep the true 
facts of the case hidden as much as possible from the 
curious passengers.” 

Unhappily for Marie, in order to reach the captain’s 
quarters, they had to make their way through a crowd 
of men and women who mercilessly gazed at the girl 
—some with pity, but the majority of them with 
scorn. When the duchess saw how contemptuously 
they were staring at the unfortunate girl, the scene 

124 


MARIE ASKS FORGIVENESS 


125 


of the night before rose before her. The suggestive 
dancing—the liquors that exhilarated just enough 
to express a subtle meaning—the gowns that so 
cleverly draped the forms, exposing more than they 
concealed—and then flashed into her mind, “Those 
among you who are innocent, cast the first stone.” 
Her face expressed something of the thoughts that were 
in her mind, and the people turned away contritely. 

When the duchess and Marie reached the captain’s 
quarters, the girl’s father was sitting with bowed 
head, and when she appeared before him, he sprang 
to his feet. The duchess was horrified to see that he 
had been handcuffed, and in the far end of the cabin 
were the two plain-clothes men, apparently keeping- 
guard over him. 

Marie sank at her father’s feet and with out¬ 
stretched arms, began to weep and plead for his 
forgiveness. There was no relenting in that stern 
face and his words that followed,confirmed the verdict. 

“No! there is no forgiveness in my heart—you 
killed your mother—you brought shame upon me— 
you have become an outcast from society. I could 
forgive you if you had remained the sweet, simple 
girl you were when you left home, but it did not 
take you long to become one of the crowd. I saw 
your immoral conduct since you boarded the steamer; 
the very clothes you wore made you a thing of 
shame. You lent yourself readily and willingly to 
the schemes of this scoundrel. You hoped to hold 
him by your suggestive actions—you seemed well 
informed as to what a scoundrel of his type needed 
to make his so-called love’ lasting, but unfortunately 
for you, you were not experienced enough to know 
that the blacker the life a roue leads, the greater 



126 


I OBJECT 


is his respect for women who are out of his reach, 
and whom he puts in a class with his mother and 
sisters. You, by your wanton conduct, have iso¬ 
lated yourself from decent people. Even if he had 
married you, you still would have been barred from 
good society, for many of the so-called society people, 
be they ever so loose in their own morals, will resent 
obscenities forced on them in public. You have had 
no regard for the distinguished and high-minded 
passengers, who have expressed their opinion of 
you by ignoring your presence among them. You 
have not only outraged society, but you have torn 
down the structure that was erected for the protection 
of the home. Now go and work out your own sal¬ 
vation. Pray God to forgive you, for you have not 
only been a traitor to those who loved you, but you 
have betrayed your God and his teachings. I never 
want to see you again.” 

The duchess crossed over to the girl’s side, took 
her arm and led her away. Seeing the heartbroken 
look on the face of the girl, when she unexpectedly 
learned that her poor mother was dead, brought 
tears of sympathy to the eyes of the duchess. 

She said: “Marie, you see what one false step has 
done? If you had gone to your mother and confided 
in her, she would have pointed out all the conse¬ 
quences of a mistake, which you now see so clearly 
was brought about by your secrecy and failure to 
trust in that great mother-love that would grant 
you everything within reason, if she thought your 
happiness was involved. She would have explained 
to you there could be no happiness with a man of this 
type, even though he were of your faith, for I know 
now that you had very little in common. He would 


MARIE ASKS FORGIVENESS 


127 


have made you happy as long as he paid you the 
attention that every woman craves, and satisfied 
your desire for pleasure, and bought you fine raiment, 
but as soon as he would tire of you, you would take 
separate roads.” 

“His, of course, would continue on the downward 
path, as the appetite for the grosser things of life does 
not diminish; quite the contrary. As the senses are 
satiated, they search about for new sensations, 
which they find only in the lower planes of life, and 
therefore, many who lose control of their will-power, 
sink so low that they finally become bits of human 
wreckage, which drift with the tide and are eventually 
swept out in the ocean of life and are submerged and 
no one knows what becomes of them.” 

“Yes, Duchess,” admitted Marie, “that was my plan 
last night after I found the letters. I stole out of the 
stateroom and planned to throw myself into the 
sea. The wind was howling and wailing—the mist 
had enfolded the vessel, and I crept forward. As I 
rounded the bend, something seemed to whisper, 
‘Marie, that’s the cowardly way; you must expiate 
on earth. You cannot go before the seat of judgment 
with your soul black with deceit.’ I thought of my 
dear mother and at that moment a wave hit the side 
of the vessel—the wind caught my garments and 
swept me across the deck. I flung out my arms, 
held tightly to a lifeboat and raised myself and crept 
into it. When the vessel ceased plunging for a mo¬ 
ment, I cautiously lifted myself over the side of the 
boat and grasped the rail running along the side of 
the vessel and gradually groped my way through 
the black darkness towards the ray of light that was 
shining from the hallway.” 


128 


I OBJECT 


“My spirits and the elements were in harmony, but 
the tranquillity and the peace of that interior beck¬ 
oned to me encouragingly, and I strained every nerve 
and fought to regain my cabin. The wind was tearing 
at my garments and the rain was beating mercilessly 
down on my head and shoulders. I shuddered with 
horror at this thing I had planned to do.” 

“I know now that I would never have had the 
courage to go through with it, for I was half drowned 
before I fought my way back. I finally reached the 
door and it took some effort on my part to open it. 
The fight I had put up to save my life proved to 
me that as long as there would be a ray of hope, I 
would cling to life, rather than face death, not know¬ 
ing what was awaiting me in the great beyond.” 

“It was then, Duchess, that I decided to live my 
life apart and to begin all over again.” 

“Of course, I did not know that my father was on 
the steamer, and that I would have the good fortune 
to find friends aboard. I know now that my dear 
mother’s spirit must have been keeping watch over 
me, and I am going to try to begin my life over again 
so that my father will relent in time and take me 
back again.” 

Marie had barely finished speaking, when the 
duchess caught the sound of hurried footsteps and 
a deep murmur of excited voices. She felt intu¬ 
itively that the climax had come and something 
had happened in the captain’s quarters. As she 
hastened out on deck, Michael met her and exclaimed, 
“In mercy’s name, Duchess, go back to the girl and 
keep her with you; her father has thrown himself 
overboard. I am going to investigate what happened. 



MARIE ASKS FORGIVENESS 


129 


I heard shouts, ‘man overboard! man overboard!’ 
and am on my way now to hear the details.” 

“Michael,” said the duchess, “go to Elynor as 
quickly as you can—guard her every moment—she 
must not know of this new frightful thing that will 
bring her unending sorrow. That man is her father— 
the girl is her sister. You have come back to take 
the place of mother, father, and brother. In the 
future you will have to be all things to Elynor.” 

Michael stood transfixed. He was overwhelmed 
that God in his infinite mercy had sent him back to 
his own at this critical hour. 

The duchess arrived on deck in time to see the life¬ 
boats lowered into the seething waters. The sea was 
still very rough, but the sun was shining. In one of 
the lifeboats was the chief officer with a picked crew. 
With a prayer on their lips, the passengers watched 
the boats bobbing on the water at the mercy of wind 
and wave. The suspense was enervating. The 
sailors searched the waters for two hours, but 
their task was futile. The sea had grown calm, 
but there was no trace of the missing man. The 
lifeboats returned and the steamer continued on her 
way. 

The duchess kept staring over the side of the vessel 
—a strange fascination compelling her glance to 
remain fixed on the water—and then, suddenly she 
saw floating along the side of the vessel the body 
which seemed to be sitting on the water! She was 
awed by the sight she beheld. Sitting on the water, 
in a prayerful attitude—how could this be possible? 

She started, when she felt an arm encircling her and 
turned her head and looked into the eyes of Harold, 


9 



130 


I OBJECT 


who said: “Duchess, I know just how you feel; I have 
been watching that form for some moments myself. I 
think I can explain what seems so mysterious to you. 
You didn’t know it, but you were speaking aloud. 
I happened to be standing near the captain’s door 
when this unfortunate man rushed out on deck with 
the two plain-clothes men close on his heels. They 
told me they had handcuffed him because they were 
afraid he would harm himself, but they were not 
prepared for the sudden dash he made to throw him¬ 
self overboard. Fortunately they caught him in 
time, and with a rope which was hanging nearby, 
they tied his feet, but it seemed that fate took a 
hand and the vessel pitched forward, threw the man 
away from his captors, and an immense wave washed 
over the deck and carried its prey with it. The 
hands and feet being bound, made it possible for the 
body to assume that sitting posture on the water.” 


Chapter XIV 


Elynors Martyrdom 

The duchess sent a message to Michael to join her 
in the lounge. Elynor was sleeping peacefully, so 
Michael kissed her tenderly and left her in charge of 
the stewardess, who was unpacking one of his trunks, 
which were laden with gorgeous gowns for Elynor. 
On the dressing table, Michael placed a jewel case 
filled with precious stones, and in a conspicuous spot 
where Elynor could not fail to see it the moment she 
opened her eyes, he laid a priceless pearl necklace 
presented him by a Russian nobleman as a token of 
appreciation for saving his sister from a mad attempt 
on her life by a Bolshevist. 

As soon as Michael received the message he has¬ 
tened to the side of the duchess, and she greeted him 
with the following words: 

“Michael, I am going to rend your heart with the 
one tragic element in the life of Elynor, which will 
prepare you for the moment of agony you will be 
confronted with before many hours.” 

“When Lura Hope was six months old, Elynor 
began to have trouble with her breast. She was in 
New York at the time and could not afford to consult 
a physician who could have given expert advice, 
and not knowing that a serious condition might de¬ 
velop, she neglected to give the ailment careful at¬ 
tention.” 

“About four years later, I received a long distance 

131 


132 


I OBJECT 


call and was informed that my presence in New York 
was imperative. My attorney stated the matter 
could not be discussed over the phone. An hour 
later, I was on my way to New York. When I met 
my attorney at the station, he told me that it con¬ 
cerned Elynor and that he was taking me to her 
apartment." 

"When I entered Elynor was alone. Lura was 
being taken care of in the apartment next door. 
Michael, permit me to address you so,—your name 
has been on Elynor’s lips daily, as her idol, and I have 
grown accustomed to the ring of it—you know how 
artistic Elynor is, and you will now realize that her 
acceptance and resignation in this great calamity 
which had befallen her had made possible the follow¬ 
ing scene which I am going to portray as nearly as 
I can." 

"Elynor’s chamber was simply furnished—but her 
love of subdued lights and color effects produced the 
following results, and caught me unprepared for the 
frightful news I was about to hear." 

"Michael, pull yourself together, for Elynor, 
with the rosy light of the shades reflecting an arti¬ 
ficial color to her face, bravely and cheerily said: 

"‘Duchess, my good, kind friend—my more than 
sister—I have not many hours to live. I sent for 
you to ask you to take my little Lura; you have no 
children of your own, I know you will love her." 

"‘The doctor says it is only a question of days. 

I am eaten up with cancer—the poison has gone so 
deep that I can no longer rest.’ 

"Tears trickled down her cheeks, but she went 
bravely on. 


ELYNOR’S MARTYRDOM 


133 


“ T am so helpless—so useless—and I know that 
after I am gone, Lura’s father may come back some 
day, and with me out of the way, she will come 
into her own. My wealthy uncle may take care 
of her, although he has done nothing for her as 
yet. Her grandmother always wanted to take her 
from me, but Duchess, I had only my baby. I am 
afraid I have been a very selfish mother. I should 
have considered her welfare, but my misfortune 
has left a little bitterness in my heart.” 

“ ‘While I forgive Mrs. Markley, I prefer to have 
you, my beloved friend and benefactress, take my 
little girl. She loves you and the Lady Lura dearly.’ 

“Michael, your mother had followed on the next 
train; she could not arrange to go with me. When 
she came to Elynor, that is when they asked mutually 
to be forgiven. I felt sorry for your mother, Michael, 
well—I don’t want to wound you, but I could not 
help but think that it would have been better if the 
understanding had come in time to avert this dis¬ 
aster. I won’t dwell on details—I will just sum up the 
situation.” 

“I would not accept the diagnosis as final and called 
up an eminent surgeon and friend, who was inter¬ 
nationally famous, determined to do everything in 
my power to save the life of this noble girl. He 
arranged to examine Elynor the following day. 
Michael, it was even worse than I anticipated. 
Elynor had trouble with her lungs and would not 
be able to take an anesthetic; the breast would have 
to be cocainized and taken off piece by piece.” . 

“Great God, Duchess! what are you saying,” 
Michael cried, springing to his feet. He was shaking like 


134 


I OBJECT 


a man with the ague and it took some effort to con¬ 
trol himself. “Duchess, forgive me, you are bring¬ 
ing home to me the enormity of the crime I com¬ 
mitted. I know now it was a crime. No, I shall 
never, never, be able to make it up to her. Will I 
be granted life long enough to make amends— 
amends, Duchess?” 

“I know you are suffering, Michael, I know. I 
cannot tell you how I felt. I have often tried to 
analyze my feelings, but even now I am at a loss to 
understand why I would not accept this diagnosis 
as final. One more hope, and I clung to it. Michael, 

I asked the doctor if Elynor could travel and also 
asked for his assurance that she would reach our 
destination alive. He answered that if I took the 
Century train that afternoon and fed her on cham¬ 
pagne throughout the journey, she would no doubt 
live. He stated that the poison had eaten into her 
system so that solid food was not possible but that 
he could promise that she would not die enroute.” 

“Michael, that brave girl took the verdict calmly 
and her resigned air made it possible for me to carry 
out my plan. I was completely unnerved—hastened 
to my hotel—had my maid pack our grips and a kind 
friend of Elynor’s volunteered to go with us.” 

“We made her as comfortable as possible. She 
stood the trip fairly well and as the train pulled 
into the station, the ambulance was waiting and 
she was rushed to the hospital. I ordered the chauf¬ 
feur to take me to the greatest surgeon of the age— 
Michael, the greatest surgeon of the age. He is 
dead now—his work is finished. Elynor is the 
living proof of the work of this miracle man. With 



ELYNOR’S MARTYRDOM 


135 


him he brought his son-in-law, and these two angels 
of mercy brought your Elynor back to life.” 

“That eminent scholar and diagnostician assured 
us it would be safe for her to take the anesthetic, 
and that wizard with the knife arranged to operate 
the following day.” 

“Michael, I left Elynor at the hospital and took 
little Lura with me. I told the child to pray for her 
mother, hard—hard—and I can still see the little 
baby lips moving in prayer—the little rosy-tipped 
fingers joined, and the golden curls lovingly caressing 
the milky whiteness of the skin as she prayed, ‘God, 
please let mother come home soon.’ My throat con¬ 
tracted so, I felt I could never utter a sound again. 
I took the little form into my arms and wept bitterly 
over her. I feared that morning would make the baby 
an orphan. There were nine chances out of ten 
against Elynor.” 

“I went up to Elynor’s room when she was awaken¬ 
ing, and I heard her murmur, ‘My baby; Duchess, 
my baby.’ Four days later she was having her lunch 
in the sun parlor. They called her ‘Sunshine’—the 
doctor dubbed her his little ‘Queen of Sheba.’ 

“Michael, go to Elynor; don’t be shocked, the 
incision is deep—very deep. The scar reaches to the 
waist line—but the breast is well. In the Louvre, in 
Paris, stands the original of the Venus de Milo. She 
is so lovely that you do not miss the arms. On the 
contrary, she stands accusingly, graven in stone to 
bear witness to man’s destructiveness, with no thought 
for anything but carrying out their own selfish 
and blood-thirsty craving to satisfy that savage 
desire for conquest. You stand before her with awe, 


136 


I OBJECT 


and wonder that man can destroy. There stands only 
a lifeless statue; here a priceless treasure. —- 

“Michael, I am not censuring you. Remember, I 
just wanted to explain so the shock would not be too 
great when you see that human form mutilated— 
that beautiful little Psyche marred.’* 

“I see how this has affected you; don’t let Elynor 
see you like this. She is cured—she is well. It 
was not cancer, just the beginning of that horrible 
malady, and quick action effected a permanent 
cure. She has forgotten the pain. You must not 
be present when she disrobes to-night; I will go to 
her and call you when she is ready to go to dinner.” 

“The name of the doctor, Duchess,” asked Michael; 
“the name of the superman who gave me new-found 
happiness—his name?” 

The duchess answered, “All you need know is that 
he lived and died in the ‘Queen City of the West.’ 
A son survives who is equally a wizard, and they 
say they knew he would be a great surgeon, because 
when he was still a little boy he was about to dissect 
the cat with a large butcher knife, when another mem¬ 
ber of the family saved the life of the household pet.” 

“Michael, there is another man who played a 
large part in the saving of Elynor’s life, and I want 
you to know it because of the peculiar circumstances 
which made it possible for him to do the impossible. 
The eminent physician in New York had said that 
she would not be able to take an anesthetic. That 
was really the alarming part of the diagnosis. The 
recognized anesthetician who was to give her the 
anesthetic that morning failed to appear through 
some misunderstanding. A so-called novice, and a 


ELYNOR’S MARTYRDOM 


137 


member of that distinguished family of this great 
surgeon, was called upon to take the place of the 
missing doctor.” 

“Duchess, I am so full of sorrow that I cannot see 
how it will be possible to go back to Elynor and look 
joyful with this heavy weight lying on my heart. 
I have exacted a promise from Elynor,” said Michael, 
“that I wanted her face to be wreathed in smiles. 
How can I comfort her, knowing all the tragic ele¬ 
ments with which this day has been filled? It will 
take superhuman strength for me to keep in the 
background this terrible thing you have exposed 
to me. I know I shall want to weep when I look 
at my little girl and know that in the future I must 
always feel that I was the cause of mutilating my 
little goddess of love. All the misfortunes that 
befell Elynor, I must necessarily feel I am re¬ 
sponsible for.” 

“I want to express my gratitude to you, Duchess, 
for the kindly manner in which you received me. 
I do not deserve the slightest consideration and 
my heart is so full of grief that my eyes feel 
as if they will overflow in the presence of my little 
martyr.” 

“Now, Michael,” answered the duchess, “this will 
never do. You must not give way to your feelings at 
this time. Play the strong, manly part; summon all 
your courage. Go and smoke for a while. I will go 
to Elynor and when we are ready for dinner, I will 
send for you.” 

“I have asked Harold L’Amour to take dinner with 
Marie in my drawing room and told him that we will 
join them after dinner. I have taken the liberty of 


138 


I OBJECT 


telling them that you will not object if they are pres¬ 
ent to-night when you relate some of your adventures 
to us. I think it will do Marie good and we can gently 
break the news to Elynor that Marie is her sister. It 
will not be necessary to speak of their father. Elynor 
never had any affection for him and did not know or 
understand a father’s love. Therefore, as he is prac¬ 
tically a stranger, we need not make her sad by this 
awful tragedy.” 

“I will talk to Marie and ask her to keep silent 
about herself. We will tell Elynor as much as she 
need know for the time being. In that way Elynor 
will be kept in happy ignorance of to-day’s events.” 

With these words, the duchess dismissed Michael 
and took Lucy with her to help dress Elynor for din¬ 
ner. When the duchess and Lucy entered Elynor’s 
sleeping apartment she was in the act of dressing. 
In spite of the gorgeous array that Michael had gath¬ 
ered in all parts of the world for her, she had chosen 
a simple black velvet gown, paneled with apple-green 
brocaded satin. In the little frock, which she chose 
with such good taste, was expressed the most ju¬ 
dicious feminine knowledge of what would appeal to 
the serious side of the man who had lain under the 
stars on the battlefield. However, she felt he would 
enjoy seeing her display some of the gorgeous gifts he 
brought her, so around her waist she clasped a jeweled 
belt, which was once worn by the fair Marie An¬ 
toinette. The string of pearls Michael had placed 
conspicuously before her seemed to call to her that 
it wanted to encircle the swan-like neck and lay closely 
caressing her beautiful skin. Her hair was piled high 
on her head, and, from a light tint, it had changed 


ELYNOR’S MARTYRDOM 


139 


to burnished gold; the gray that mingled with it was 
barely perceptible. Her eyes were large and shining— 
the smile had changed her mouth—and the lips seemed 
to invite the caresses of the gods. Happiness had 
transformed her from a mature, sad-eyed woman to a 
light-hearted, joyous girl. 

When the duchess entered, Elynor threw her arms 
around her. “My dear friend,” she exclaimed, “could 
one dream there was so much happiness in the world 
—that such things could be? I have but one wish 
now, Duchess. I want to see you as glowing as I am 
to-night, and I suspect that there is somebody that 
can make those eyes shine and bring the color to your 
cheeks.” 

“Elynor, I see that you are brimming over with 
happiness, that you are trying to make me catch 
a few of the drops which you won’t miss.” 

“Duchess,” said Elynor, “I wish you were not so 
pessimistic. Why do you insist on enjoying every¬ 
body else’s happiness and refuse to take a share of it 
for yourself? Never mind, Duchess, I saw you get 
that wire this morning; I saw your eyes brighten, and 
I am not so sure that you are as indifferent to Sir 
Gilbert as you pretend to be.” 

At that moment, Michael appeared in the door¬ 
way. “Duchess, I could not wait until you sent for 
me. I am quite fit,” he announced. 

He looked from the duchess to Elynor, opened his 
arms and gathered her to his heart and gazed into her 
upturned face with the emotion that only those who 
have been loved in a like manner can understand. 

“My little queen—my little beauty—” he mur¬ 
mured, “you will be enthroned in my heart always, 


140 


I OBJECT 


and the picture of you to-night will never be ef¬ 
faced. I will dress for dinner now.” 

“Yes,” said the duchess to Michael, “I am going to 
take Elynor with me and I will be ready whenever 
you wish to call for us.” 

When the duchess and Elynor had reached her 
suite, they found Marie dressed in a dainty, little 
gown, and reclining on the cushions which the steward¬ 
ess had arranged in a picturesque fashion. Although 
Marie was very sad, she looked very sweet and young, 
and it would have been difficult to tell that she had 
passed through a terrible ordeal. The shy and ex¬ 
pectant look on her face told the duchess that she 
and Harold had come to a perfect understanding. 
Of course, the duchess readily guessed that it was 
because of the very tragic elements which had taken 
place in the last twenty-four hours that made possible 
this intimacy between these two young people. She 
knew pity was akin to love. 

The look of amazement on Elynor’s face brought 
the duchess to the realization that an explanation 
of Marie’s presence in her rooms was imminent. 
The duchess was about to inform Elynor of some 
of the events that had taken place while she was 
asleep, without revealing the tragic side to her, when 
Elynor’s glance wandered to the table on which was 
lying the letter and small photograph that had 
brought such a shock to the duchess. Elynor walked 
to the table and picked up the photograph—crossed 
over to Marie—stooped down and kissed her tenderly. 
The duchess looked on in astonishment at this strange 
scene. 

Elynor turned to the duchess and said, “Going 



ELYNOR’S MARTYRDOM 


141 


through my brother’s papers this morning, I came 
across this letter, which was addressed to my father 
and was unsealed. This small picture was lying next 
to it. I was curious to know who the beautiful young 
girl was, and, turning it over on the other side, found 
the following note, ‘To my dear boy, from father and 
sister Marie—taken on the ranch.’ ” 

“The chance resemblance, which seemed to trouble 
us so much,” continued Elynor, “was made very clear 
to me, and the bits of conversation that we overheard 
verified my suspicions that this most extraordinary 
thing might be possible. I was about to read to you 
my brother’s letter and speak of the picture, when 
Michael appeared on the scene. Duchess, please don’t 
say anything to him about it for the present, as I do 
not want to mar the evening for him. I wanted to re¬ 
read my brother’s letter and make sure that I was not 
mistaken, when he alludes to Marie as his sister and 
speaks of the stranger’s visit to the ranch.” 

At this, Marie broke into the conversation ex¬ 
citedly, with “Yes! Yes! I remember you now. The 
same sweet-faced little girl that brother spoke of so 
often. He showed me the picture of you which he 
always carried with him. How strange it all seems 
that at such a time and in such a place I find my 
sister when I need help and sympathy most.” 

“Marie,” said Elynor, “a sister who will try to 
straighten out your trouble for you and stand by you 
and protect you from that vicious man whose victim 
you have become.” 

The duchess was staring hard at Marie. Marie 
glanced towards her inquiringly, and in the duchess’ 
eyes she read a significant expression which seemed 


142 


I OBJECT 


to tell her to keep silent. Marie answered by raising 
Elynor’s hand to her lips and then Elynor said to the 
duchess: “Please dress now; Michael will be here any 
minute and I don’t want an opportunity for a mo¬ 
ment’s conversation.” 

There was a knock at the door and Harold ap¬ 
peared in the doorway. Marie blushed and, turning 
to Elynor, she remarked, “Elynor, I want you to meet 
my new friend, Mr. Harold Duane L’Amour.” 

“I am so glad to know you, Mrs. Markley,” Harold 
responded. “I have heard you spoken of so often and 
I want to tell you that it is a great joy to have the 
privilege of knowing you, particularly as my uncle 
always used you as a model when he referred to an 
ideal woman.” 

“Harold,” answered Elynor, “with that pretty 
speech, you have broken the ice that conventionality 
forces us to surround ourselves with. I here and now 
declare you a member of our charmed circle. Since 
I am taking you so intimately into the family em¬ 
brace I am going to entrust into your care, our dear 
Marie. In the course of the evening, she will tell you 
how much she is a part of our family.” 

“Mrs. Markley, I quite understand that I owe my 
gracious reception to the joyous mood you are in,” 
replied Harold.” 

“The duchess told me the glad tidings—that you 
and Colonel Markley have been reunited to-day, 
after having been lost to each other so many years. 
I heard much of the story while a guest at my uncle’s, 
Sir Gilbert’s, home. I am so excited and want to tell 
you how glad I am to have a part assigned to me in 
this family reunion. It is too bad Sir Gilbert could 


ELYNOR’S MARTYRDOM 


143 


not arrange to be present. How complete it would 
all be, and I am sure the duchess will miss him more 
than any of us,” said Harold, with a roguish glance 
at the duchess, who had just entered. 

“You wicked boy,” rejoined the duchess, as she 
caught his last words. 

The duchess was charming in a gold and chantilly 
lace costume, her stately carriage giving her the air 
and appearance of the court and period of Louis XIV. 

“Oh, Duchess!” exclaimed Elynor. “What a siren 
you are. I am afraid you have designs on my husband.” 

“No, Elynor, I am simply trying to impress him 
with my grandeur.’ What I lack in youth and beauty, 
will be emphasized by the sweetness and simplicity 
which you so adroitly express in your costume to¬ 
night. You are just trying to make me forget that I 
am dependent upon your good graces this evening, 
and, with your lord and master at the helm, I shall 
have to content myself with the crumbs that I will 
find at the festive board. Even Harold has arranged 
with Marie to have dinner served here. Marie pre¬ 
tends that she is not well enough to go into the dining 
room.” 

Elynor glanced inquiringly at the duchess and 
vaguely wondered what had become of the man who, 
early that morning, had been such a factor in cloud¬ 
ing Marie’s life. The duchess answered her look by 
saying: “I will tell you all about it after dinner, 
Elynor. That sinister influence has been removed 
and will trouble Marie no more.” 

Michael knocked at the door. Elynor received 
him and experienced a new thrill when she saw 
the tall, handsome, dignified gentleman in evening 


144 


I OBJECT 


clothes standing before her. She turned proudly to 
the duchess and said, “Duchess, this is my husband.” 

The joy of it!—the joy of it!—when she bowed 
mockingly to the duchess. There was a quizzical 
look in Michael’s eyes and he smiled broadly at 
Elynor’s light-heartedness, as he observed: 

“Elynor, dear, you are radiating sunshine; you are 
filling everybody’s heart with gladness. I hope to see 
you always this way.” 

Michael turned to Harold and extended his hand, 
adding: “I am glad of the opoortunity to say a few 
words to you before dinner. Your uncle often spoke 
of you to me when you were a little boy. He was so 
full of you when I had the good fortune to again see 
him on my return to America that you will be sur¬ 
prised to know that he even told me the story of the 
day when you donned your first pair of long pants. 
Harold, I am afraid we are all very childish to-night, 
and you will have to excuse us. We are all deserving 
of a little joy to make up for the sorrow with which 
our lives have been filled. What a marvelous thing it 
is that we are gathered here to-night with the future 
holding out its promise of happiness to all of us. After 
dinner I hope to hold your interest and attention by 
the tales I will bring you from afar.” 

With courtly grace, Michael turned to the duchess 
and Elynor, offered his arms, and they wended their 
way to the dining salon. The captain and a few of the 
privileged guests were already seated at the table when 
they entered, and rose at their approach. The table was 
elaborately decorated with floral designs and a minia¬ 
ture of the steamer was placed in the center with the 
American and French flags intertwined. 


ELYNOR’S MARTYRDOM 


145 


The captain had given orders to the orchestra to 
strike up the American anthem when they reached 
the table, and all the passengers rose to pay tribute 
to America and, incidentally, pay homage to the 
American officer, who had so gloriously defended his 
country and had the good fortune to come out of the 
dreadful charnel house unscathed. 

It was the first time that Elynor had appeared in 
evening gown for dinner and, therefore, the passengers 
did not recognize in the queenly little girl at Michael’s 
side the duchess’ secretary. The duchess kept the 
entire table interested by her many tales and adven¬ 
tures of her travels, so Elynor and Michael were free 
to confine their attentions to each other. 

“Michael! Michael!” said Elynor, during the course 
of the dinner, “do you remember the night we became 
engaged, when I took all the food out of the re¬ 
frigerator, and your mother was so angry? I am 
reminded of it to-night, with all this magnificence and 
all these delectable things to eat; and the champagne, 
flowing as it were, from fountains. In spite of it all, 
I find that spiritual food emanating from you will 
satisfy my hunger, as it did that night.” 

“Elynor, sweetheart; personally I would have pre¬ 
ferred to be alone with you, but the captain was so 
insistent at celebrating our reunion, and his kindly 
heart has been so filled with the thought that he 
could add to our happiness by tendering us this 
dinner, that I could not refuse him. After to-night 
you and I are going to go into the heart of the woods 
and live in a hut—just you and I—just you and I.” 

At the close of the dinner the captain handed 
Elynor a sealed box and asked her not to open it until 


10 


146 


I OBJECT 


she retired that night. Elynor guessed by the twinkle 
in his eye that there would be a laugh in it and her 
blushes brought an answering smile from the captain. 
After dinner the duchess, Elynor, and Michael took a 
short walk on the deck and found Harold standing 
alone, gazing over the side of the vessel. The dreamy 
look on his face brought a hearty laugh from 
Michael. 

Michael took Harold’s arm and said: ‘‘Come, my 
boy, let’s smoke; the ladies can get along without us 
for a little while. You can continue to dream in the 
smoking room. I always could make love better 
when I saw my dream girl through a hazy cloud. 
Imagination is a wonderful factor through which to 
approach a reality. Shadow and substance are so 
closely interwoven, and to the lover a step beyond 
means ‘her’ presence. Let us walk a bit.” 

Michael kissed Elynor and left them at the duchess’ 
door J They found Marie gazing sadly and rapturously 
at a sheet of paper on which were some words set to 
music. 

“Elynor, dear,” Marie said, “Harold has written 
a poem and set it to music, and has dedicated it to you 
and Michael.” 

“Oh, let me have it, Marie,” eagerly exclaimed 
Elynor. “Aren’t the words perfectly beautiful, 
Duchess? Look at them—what a genius that boy is! 
I can hardly wait until Harold plays it for me. Come, 
Duchess, let’s join them. I am sure Harold would 
rather play than smoke, anyway.” 

“Marie, dear, we will be back shortly; a little medi¬ 
tation will do you good. Did you enjoy your dinner? 
I notice you ate very little. I can understand, Marie,” 
said Elynor, “I think I ate less.” 


ELYNOR’S MARTYRDOM 


147 


With dancing steps and joyous heart, she flew out 
of the room, followed by the duchess, to find Michael 
and Harold. They were seated in a corner of the 
lounge. Elynor tiptoed up tb Michael’s side and 
put her hands over his eyes. Michael’s head was 
thrown back, and as he took the dainty little fingers in 
his hand he kissed them. 

“Michael,” she said, “I want you to see the won¬ 
derful poem Harold composed this afternoon.” 

“You are mistaken, Mrs. Markley,” said Harold. 
“I composed that poem and set it to music in America. 
I had heard all about you and Lura through my uncle 
and had this written, not dreaming that I would 
have the pleasure of presenting it to you so soon. I 
left rather unexpectedly to visit with some of my col¬ 
leagues and, therefore, was not informed that Colonel 
Markley would be on the steamer. Come, Mrs. 
Markley, I will play it for you and give you the key 
in which it will harmonize with your voice. I know 
your husband will enjoy many evenings listening to 
its comforting message.” 

“Harold,” said Elynor, after she had heard him 
play the beautiful song. “You will please go to 
Marie now, as I do not want a great musician like 
you to hear my rendition of your masterly composi¬ 
tion.” 


148 


I OBJECT 


SONG OF SONGS 
‘‘Babe O’ Mine” 

In the arms of the aurora they brought her, 

This beautiful baby of mine; 

In the large, brown eyes of my baby, 

The soul of my Michael would shine. 

In the burnished gold hair of my Lura, 

The light glint of my Michael gleamed forth; 

In the peach-blossom cheek of my Lura, 

The dreams of my Michael were reborn. 

Refrain 

And she saw in the eyes of her Michael, 

Her baby—her darling—her own; 

And in the sheen of the hair, of her treasure, 
Was the gold glint of her lover of yore. 

And she lay in the arms of her Michael, 

The hero—the man of her dreams; 

And would drink from the stream of his glory, 
The nectar that happiness brings. 

And in peace and in deep understanding, 
Celestial highways they’d roam; 

And tread together the path, 

Which would lead them to God’s throne. 



Elynor Sings Babe O’ Mine to Michael 


































ELYNOR’S MARTYRDOM 


149 


Elynor seated herself at the beautiful Weber piano 
and then softly sang the sweet words of the lullaby, 
which brought to her hungering heart the desire 
to be near her baby girl. When Elynor had finished 
the song she gazed up at Michael, who was look¬ 
ing down at her with tender, misty eyes. The 
duchess’ sympathetic face easily conveyed to the on¬ 
looker that this trio was closely attached by the tie 
that binds.” 

Some of the passengers had sauntered into the 
salon, whereupon the happy three adjourned to the 
duchess’ cabin. They found Harold reading to Marie; 
and standing at the entrance of the door was a beauti¬ 
ful little dark-skinned boy dressed in native costume, 
holding aloft, with dignity and serious air, a red 
cushion, on which was a precious inlaid box of gold. 
Elynor and the duchess were so startled at this un¬ 
expected apparition that they thought for a moment 
the subdued lights were playing havoc with their im¬ 
agination and that they were “seeing things.” The 
last few days had been so filled with amazing and 
thrilling experiences, they were beginning to feel that 
everything was unreal, and they thought perhaps the 
happy mood they were in was responsible for this un¬ 
natural vision. 

Michael was standing behind them, and when 
Elynor turned to look at him inquiringly he laugh¬ 
ingly said: 

“That is my surprise, Elynor; I brought you this 
gift from a far-off country. The body of the boy is 
black, but his father’s heart was all white. He was 
my shadow on the battlefield, and if a deadly missile 
was aimed at me his body was always thrust forward 
to receive the death-dealing blow. If he were alive 


150 


I OBJECT 


to-day he would be clothed in medals for his many 
acts of heroism on that field of carnage. He made 
but one request of me when he died, and that was 
to care for his little boy—so, Elynor, in spite of the 
fact that his skin is black, I want you to try to help 
and guide him.” 

The child did not understand what Michael 

said, but when he saw the ladies he came forward, 
knelt at Elynor’s feet and held out the box to her. 
Elynor received it graciously and Michael addressed 
a few kindly words to the child. 

“Now let us be seated comfortably and I will 
begin the tale of my adventures,” said Michael. “I 
know you are very curious as to what the box con¬ 
tains, so I will set your mind at rest at once.” 

Michael opened the box and from it took a beau¬ 
tifully bound leather Bible—a little silver box—and a 
golden jeweled cross. “I see the amazed look on your 
faces,” said Michael. 

* Dear Duchess, in the course of my story you will 
learn what each one of these sacred objects stand for 
and how they came into my possession. Each of them 
represents the basic principles upon which this world 
is grounded and without which it must fall.” 

'‘In the precious silver metal is embodied the whole 
of the law of life—ten commands—obey—and life is 
perfect. I had them encased in silver and call them 
speech. In them lies Israel’s 'Hope.’ 

“The little Bible, a book of science—I call it 
'Faith.’ 

“The jeweled cross, ‘Charity Divine,’ for, what 
greater thing can a man do than lay down his life for 
his brother? 



ELYNORS MARTYRDOM 


151 


“I call speech silver, but in this emblem I read 
Golden Silence.” 

“Hope—Faith— and Charity.” 

“When will we reach that state of perfection 
when we will recognize in our fellowman not a stranger 
but a member of the large human family, as it was 
intended from the beginning of time—when in him 
will lay our Hope—and through him will come our 
Faith, and because of him we will be filled with 
Charity?” 


Chapter XV 


The Awakening 

"I promised my dear Elynor that on long winter 
evenings, when we are gathered around the hearth 
in our homeland, I will tell her many a tale that will 
make her understand how from great heights I de¬ 
scended into the depths, and in dark, noisome places, 
where crime concealed itself from the light, I learned 
to know and understand humankind. Now that 
the journey is ended I have come to know God’s 
purposes. I understand now that he took me by the 
hand and said, ‘Son of man, here is the universe—if 
you want to be of service to your fellowman you 
must understand every phase of his life and get at the 
cause that brings about the effect of his misdoings, so 
you will know all the dangers that lurk in hidden paths 
in which crime abides’; so Michael began the tale. 

“Sir Gilbert has told you what happened after I 
left the house that memorable night. I have only to 
add that my heart was so full of bitterness that, from 
a great believer, I became a pronounced atheist. 
To me life was worse than useless, but I had to go on 
with it somehow and determined that I would cease 
to struggle against this wild impulse that was urging 
me to commit all sorts of misdeeds. I wanted to 
get away as far as possible from those whom I once 
knew—to cast my lot among strangers and drift with 
the tide. I dreaded meeting former friends and so 
went to New York and buried myself in the so-called 
‘Underworld.’ ” 


152 


THE AWAKENING 


153 


As Michael was speaking, Elynor had taken his 
hand in hers and was looking up at him with a fixed 
and startled gaze. Marie and Harold were listening 
intently. 

“To-night I will confine myself to the story I am 
about to tell you of how I was brought to my senses 
by a little old woman whom I met on the eve of 
Yom Kippur, who brought me to the realization that 
the life I was leading was worse than criminal,” con¬ 
tinued Michael. 

“Michael, dear,” pleaded Elynor, “please do not 
tell us anything that will make you unhappy to¬ 
night.” 

“No, dear, that is not my intention. You will like 
my story of the little old woman because its simple 
tale will bring you the message of the great mother- 
love which I encountered when it was my good for¬ 
tune to meet this noble, saintly woman. ” 

“I will say only this, that my life was so filled with 
degradation, had I not met with this good influ¬ 
ence, my decision was to put an end to myself. ” 

“I awakened on Yom Kippur morning, dazed, 
ashamed, realizing that such things could not be. I 
must do one of the two things: make up my mind to 
live right or die. I did not have the courage to take 
my life. I must live and repent and turn aside from 
the worthless life I was leading. 

“I had eaten nothing for twenty-four hours. Could 
I go through with the fast all day? Yes! from some¬ 
where would come help to guide me aright—to 
strengthen me in my new resolves. I knew that it 
would be impossible to get a seat in a temple that day, 
as all the Jewish houses of worship would be filled to 
overflowing. There was only one chance. I recalled 


154 


I OBJECT 


seeing a new structure that had just been erected 
but was not quite completed on the inside. It was 
to this structure that I led the little old woman whom 
I met the evening before. When I met her she 
was alone and seemed to hesitate crossing the streets. 
I took her arm and guided the uncertain, fearing 
steps. She was weeping and clinging to my arm. 
Before me rose the vision of my own dear mother 
whom I had abandoned so ruthlessly—so selfishly— 
and if I had had wings I would have flown to her. She, 
too, would be alone that day. I wickedly and sin¬ 
fully had destroyed her home. I, the bigot—I, the 
religious fanatic—I, that saw only evil in others— 
T forgot to take the mote out of my own eye.’ 

“I had condemned you, my darling, because you 
were worshiping at the wrong shrine—I was a mad¬ 
man. In your great hour of sorrow you called on the 
divine Father—cried out to your saintly mother, and 
for this I left you; bigot, fool that I was!” 

Elynor softly kissed the bronzed cheek—the 
duchess turned away to hide her emotions—Harold 
was looking at Michael with mingled feelings, won¬ 
dering that a strong man could be so weak. Marie— 
Marie had buried her face in her hands and was sob¬ 
bing aloud. 

“I know, dear ones, that I am rending your hearts,” 
said Michael, “but I also know that when I have fin¬ 
ished we will all be better off and grateful for the op¬ 
portunity to have searched about in our hearts if 
aught remains of sin and arrogance.” 

“Michael,” said the duchess, “please continue. I 
am deeply moved by your story of the little old saint 
wending her way alone to commune with her Maker.” 

“Yes, Duchess, you are only interested, but could 


THE AWAKENING 


155 


you have seen that saintly old face—her submissive 
silence — that not one of those whom she had 
raised with such loving care were with her to 
guide the enfeebled steps—to protect from accident 
the beloved mother who to me represented all 
mothers!” 

“Coming towards us was another mother. Her 
babe was about to cross the street—an automobile was 
approaching at full speed. A look of fright on the face 
of the mother of the child—a shriek—not a moment’s 
hesitation—the babe’s life was important hers did 
not count. The babe was saved, but the mother 
paid. An accident—we passed on. The little old 
mother was told it was not serious. She whispered 
that she would pray for the babe’s mother.” 

“I led her to the synagogue. At the threshold I 
stopped and could hardly believe my eyes. The in¬ 
terior of the modest little structure was unfinished.” 

“Unfinished,” echoed the duchess. 

“Yes, unfinished! The walls had not been plastered 
—the women’s gallery (so-called) was supported 
by iron joists and declared safe. Boards had been 
nailed around it so there would be no danger of 
anyone falling to the floor below, and were covered 
with white muslin. What impressed me most was the 
wooden staircase with its rude hand railings; and my 
little old lady was mounting fearlessly, laboriously, 
but mounting, mounting. I followed, trying to guard 
her footsteps—ready to catch her if she should fall, but 
no an inner force sustained her. Up—up, she went, 
and when we reached the gallery she turned to me with 
a smile and said, ‘See, I have nothing to be afraid of— 
God is with me. I came to pray for my children. . 

“Then she confided to me the great honor the presi- 


156 


I OBJECT 


dent of the congregation had conferred upon her; 
she had been placed in a seat next to his family, in 
the front row. Elynor, darling, I wish you could 
have been with me and seen what that front row was. 
The most perilous place in the ‘Schul.’ I tested the 
boarding and feared that it might collapse. I tried 
to point out the danger to that sweet old lady, but 
oh, no, she was not afraid—God was there, and if that 
was to be the way she was ready. ‘What more glo¬ 
rious thing than to pass into God’s keeping in his own 
house?’ she answered.” 

“Oh, my dears—my dears—that little old lady was 
in my dreams all that night and I awakened in terror 
many times dreaming the gallery had collapsed—the 
little old mother was buried in the ruins—nobody 
there—oh, yes, her God—the only one to cling to— 
not alone—with her God. No husband—no sisters— 
no brothers—and no children; just God. 

“What sublime faith. What courage. An inspira¬ 
tion to all. I could not wait until morning dawned. I 
dressed and hurried to the synagogue. Her ‘Schul,’ she 
called it. I went to help her; to be there if the need 
came, but she helped me—she saved me! Hunger— 
who could be hungry in this abode? The place was 
filled with the hosts of heaven. At one time, while my 
soul was prostrate and my face buried in the dust, I 
fancied I heard the sound of celestial voices, like the 
tones of an organ. I looked about, but there was no 
evidence of a musical instrument anywhere and no 
place for concealment. Every nook and corner was 
filled with worshipers; young and old were gathered 
there. Then I discovered a choir of six boys, who had 
hurriedly been pressed into service and were produc¬ 
ing these heavenly sounds by humming a chant which 



THE AWAKENING 


157 


was an exact reproduction of the tones of an organ. 
Primitive you would call it; yet sweet, how sweet 
were the tones. They took me back to rich, green 
pastures and to David’s harp. He, the shepherd 
we, the flock.” 

“I had no time for philosophy. I was reading the 
written word—food—food—all day. The gross clay 
was filled, as is a vessel, with spiritual essence, buoyed 
up by the stream that carried it to the harbor. I cov¬ 
ered the entire wastes; on—on—ever upward. On all 
sides smiles and praises to the Lord of heaven and 
0^j*rh. Nothing to fear; all was well and when the 
shades of evening fell, all hearts were filled with 

joy.” 

“Oh, my dear ones, he who was not in that holy 
place that day has never lived. The magnificent 
temples, in which were gathered the wealth and cul¬ 
ture of the community, could not have felt this thrill 
that I experienced in being privileged to be one of the 
congregants of this holy place. 

“I shall remember that day of regeneration. The 
little old saint coming down the staircase, alone—no, 
not alone, the officer of the law was there to safeguard 
the lives of the congregants. He made those who fol¬ 
lowed her so closely, wait, as she slowly descended, 
and when she reached the foot of the rude staircase, 
which reminded me of Jacob’s ladder, I knew that 
Jacob’s dream was a reality and his hosts would con¬ 
tinue to walk up and down—up and down, until the 

end of time.” 

“I took her by the hand and wished her a happy 
New Year. I kissed her reverently, and then she 
whispered to me that she had prayed for me. For 
me! I would try to be deserving of her prayers! I 


158 


I OBJECT 


would begin all over again; she was worth it. To her 
I owe the new Michael. In her, and because of her, 
I honor all motherhood. I would make myself fit and 
on bended knees come back to my own—would look 
for wealth in all corners of the earth to shelter and 
protect from want those that were mine own and 
those whom we regard as strangers. Strangers— 
strangers—‘I was a stranger and you took me in.’ 
My little old woman; the little old mother. Yes, I 
would start at once; I needed nothing. I would be 
strong again; I would call back my lost manhood by 
sheer force of will. I would do honor to the dear, little 
old mother; I would be the man she thought I 
was.” 

“Michael,” said Elynor, “what became of the 
little old mother? Didn't you try to find out more 
about her?” 

“Elynor, dear, I wish you hadn’t asked me that. 
Your sensitive heart would be pierced through if I 
told you nobody seemed to remember the mother on 
that day. The children were scattered and so busy; 
it would be so inconvenient to come such a distance 
and neglect their own families. Yes, she had a son 
whom she adored. He was very good to her. Un¬ 
happily, he was ill that day, but she told me that she 
prayed for them all and was sure that God would an¬ 
swer her prayers and make them all prosper.” 

“So she was not poor at all, Michael,” exclaimed 
Marie.” 

“Poor!—child, poor!—she was the only one that was 
rich. The others were worse than poor. Their ma¬ 
terial wealth could not have bought a ray of the sun¬ 
shine which was reflected in the benignant, old face.” 

“Think of what she did for me that day. She re- 


THE AWAKENING 


159 


stored my faith and pointed out my duty. Not 
one of her rich relatives came near her that day, but 
when I led her up the flight of stairs to the place she 
called ‘home,’ a little child came to greet her and the 
little rosy lips lisped 1 Grandma and the old face was 
glorified. I knew then that it will be as it is written, 
that ‘a little child shall lead them.’ ” 

“And now of my wanderings I will say no more. 
Just a passing survey and the battlefield scene, which 
brought me back to mine own. As it is growing late, I 
will be brief. Marie’s head is drooping now. I will 
skip the details.” 

“I will preface my remarks by telling you, Elynor, 
darling, so as not to keep you in suspense, that it was 
our baby who discovered me on the battlefield. I was 
the enemy attacking. When I awakened to conscious¬ 
ness I found clutched in my hand this little locket and 
knew from the faces and inscriptions that I had found 

my baby and in her I was reborn. 

“A few days after Yom Kippur, I decided to take up 
a course in mechanical engineering. A few years later 
I became interested in an automobile plant and 
prospered, and life began to take on a new interest 
for me. I bought a half interest in the firm and when 
my partner retired I bought his shares and became 
sole owner. A short time later my business was 
flourishing and I had occasion to go abroad. While in 
Paris I bought an interest in a concern which was 

building aeroplanes.” 

“A few years before war was declared I was still in 
Paris,” narrated Michael. “The firm I was with 
began to receive large contracts for planes. This kept 
me occupied with these new interests. I had left the 
control of my business in America to a very efficient 


160 


I OBJECT 


man, and so arranged that he take full charge of my 
interests at home. In the meantime, of course, I made 
every effort to get tidings from my dear ones at home. 
I wrote letters, but received no answers.” 

Elynor was about to speak, when Michael inter¬ 
rupted her by saying: “Yes, I know now, dear, the 
letters were never received. Mother has told me.” 

“When war was declared many of the employees 
enlisted immediately. Among them was a young boy 
whom I was particularly interested in. Although 
he had been studying art, it was amazing how quickly 
he adapted himself to the new study which would fit 
him to enter the air service. His enthusiasm awak¬ 
ened in me the desire to know him better. One day 
he confided to me that he was an orphan and was sent 
abroad to study by a patron, who had taken him from 
an orphanage. His father died while he was still 
very young. He had just lost his mother in an auto¬ 
mobile accident. Often I found him gazing, with a 
longing look in his eyes, at a small photograph. I 
came upon him unexpectedly one day, and was sur¬ 
prised to see the face of a sweet, young girl. I was 
attracted by her red-gold hair and asked him if he had 
painted this miniature. It seemed almost an exact 
reproduction of ‘Titian’s Flora.’ Then he told me 
there was a very sad story connected with this minia¬ 
ture.” 

“Now, Elynor, my darling, I am going to give you 
great joy in what I am about to tell you. The minia¬ 
ture of the lovely face was our Lura; the boy was her 
Robert.” 

“But here is the startling part of the story. Robert 
is not a Christian Scientist. All the male members of 
Robert’s family, from time immemorial, have been 


THE AWAKENING 


161 


priests of Israel and had Robert’s father lived, he 
would have dedicated Robert to the service of 
God.” 

“At the age of five Robert could say his prayers in 
Hebrew, and at the age of twelve they called him a 
prodigy.” 

“When his mother took up Christian Science his de¬ 
votion to her—his ideal—opened up a new train of 
thought, and so Lura learned the whole of religion, 
its ideals from the idealist and dreamer, who is now 
her husband.” 

Michael had barely finished speaking, when 
Elynor leaped to her feet, threw her arms around 
his neck, and said: “Michael, you have brought me 
the greatest joy that a mother’s heart can know. My 
happiness is complete. I am almost selfish enough to 
wish that the tale should end here and now.” 

“Yes, Elynor, darling,” smiled Michael, “I am 
afraid I have anticipated my story. I assure you that 
I made heroic efforts all day to keep these glad tidings 
to the very last, but I think I was hungry for the look 
of joy on your face. All evening I noted that your 
happiness was not complete—you were wishing 
that our little girl, by some miracle, would find that 
the love she had put out of her life was to again be¬ 
come a part of it. So, Elynor, you see that all bless¬ 
ings are possible through the kindly Father. 

The duchess was listening in amazement to this al¬ 
most impossible story, which seemed like a fairy tale, 
but a few steps away from her was the living trut o 
how God works out the lives and destinies of those who 
turn from evil and embrace righteousness. 

In Marie’s face was expressed renewed hope and 
high resolve. The joyful meseage that Michael had 


11 


162 


I OBJECT 


brought to Elynor imbued her with a new courage, 
and with a sublime and inspired look in her eyes, she 
read the beautiful love-notes that the song she held 
in her hands conveyed; then she said: 

“Elynor, my dear sister, may I keep the song in 
memory of the glorious ending of this story of love and 
happiness which has crowned you both ? In the sweet 
lullaby, so beautifully expressed by our new-found 
friend, I feel reawakening in me the divine gift with 
which I have been blessed. So, my sister, may you 
find in these words everlasting joy.” 

Harold was bending over Marie as she finished 
speaking. The duchess, Elynor, and Michael silently 
left the room. 

“Duchess,” said Michael, “the night is perfect. 
We will leave Marie and Harold together and, under 
the stars, I will finish the tale which can have no in¬ 
terest for those two young souls, whom life beckons 
on, with its promise of happiness yet to come.” 

As the hour was late, there were but few passengers 
on deck. The vessel was sailing along on a phosphores¬ 
cent sea, like a graceful white swan. The sky was 
thickly studded with stars, and over the dark robe 
of night floated a crescent moon. Elynor and the 
duchess held their breath for a moment when they 
gazed from the heights above into the depths below. 
“Everything has conspired to make this a day of days 
for you both. The sky—the sea—wind and wave are 
all in harmony. Oh, dear, how glad I am for you,” 
the duchess said to Elynor.” 

“Yes,” observed Michael, “and think how wonder¬ 
ful it is that I am going to have the privilege of de¬ 
picting the stormy scenes to offset a night like this, 
when the Creator is manifest in all His work. Calm 


THE AWAKENING 


163 


and peace in the air—in Him faith and trust, for His 
hand is at the helm of the vessel, and only He has 
the power to subdue the waves and command the 
stars to appear. I am overawed at the sublimity of 
this scene. I hardly know how to begin my tale, and, 
perhaps, it is well that I modify it. I had intended 
to paint a lurid picture, depicting scenes of horrors, 
but somehow that battlefield seems very far away and 
very unreal to-night. I will only speak of the moment 
when I lost control of the plane, and which ended for 
me my career as a soldier.” 

“The Americans had made their first entry in the 
war and it was necessary to equip many of them with 
planes to scout about in the skies, as severe fighting 
was going on all along the battle-front.” 

“My firm had received a large order for planes and 
Robert went up with me to pilot a squadron that was 
trying them out. Something suddenly happened to 
the propeller and we were hurled through the air. 
When I awakened to consciousness I found there were 
three of us lying in a shell hole, side by side.” 

“A little distance away lay the smoldering ruins 
of the plane. I saw in the lurid glow outlined, *Mt. 
Sec, and crowning the top of the hill was the sentinel 
post-flashing signals. Another loud detonation of 
exploding shells tore up the earth, scattering shrapnel 
which embedded itself in the stumps of the trees—all 
that remained of the once fair landscape—and tear¬ 
ing into the tender flesh of the wounded and dying on 
the fields.” 

“Hearing a groan from the lips of a man who seemed 
to be very close to me, I turned my head and made 
out in the dim light the features of the kindly chaplain 


*Berry-Au-Bac. 




164 


I OBJECT 


who had so heroically gone into the thickest of the 
fight. He administered the last sacrament to those 
loyal soldiers who were leaving behind them all 
earthly possessions to enter into the divine embrace 
of the Father, who would mercifully heal their wounds 
and place upon their heads the laurel wreath of im¬ 
mortality.’ ’ 

“On this field of blood and pain, all were washed 
clean of any stain.” 

“The chaplain was mortally wounded and I had to 
stoop close to catch his words. His hands were 
groping around on the ground, trying to find an ob¬ 
ject that had slipped from his bosom. I caught a 
gleam of the jewels and into my memory flashed a 
scene of the day before, when the chaplain had ad¬ 
ministered the sacrament to one of the captives taken 
that day. I remembered how I had marveled, that in 
that dying hour they were talking to each other as 
man to man in the presence of their Judge. After 
kissing the symbol the dying one handed the princely 
gift to the chaplain, whispering: ‘My eyes are open to 
the light; I fought for what I thought was right. Take 
this as a pledge of my good faith and consecrate it to 
the dead.’ ” 

“I picked up the jeweled cross and was about to put 
it to the dying priest’s lips, seeing that he no longer 
had the power to hold it in his own hands, when I 
heard him murmur: ‘On this battlefield we are brothers 
worshiping one God, and I absolve you from any sin 
that you may feel you commit in administering 
to me this holy sacrament. When the angel of the 
Lord separates the spirit from its earthly clay you will 
take this cross, and as the giver commanded me in his 
last hour to consecrate it to the brave men who died 


THE AWAKENING 


165 


for their ideal, I now pass it on to you and it shall 
become your duty to commemorate this day of days 
on which is born the Brotherhood of Man. Found a 
refuge and a haven for those who sacrificed their 
strong, young manhood for a noble cause. Pray 
that the wrecks of the flower of manhood be re¬ 
ceived reverently, commiseratingly, and safeguarded 
from all the ills and vicissitudes that human flesh is 
heir to. We sent them out to battle for us, and now 
they become our charge. Woe to him who betrays 

this trust!’ 

4 ‘With the last words his eyes closed. I again sank 
into a comatose state and almost fancied I heard 
the silent figure lying next to the chaplain saying: 
‘Bear my message on to humanity; you, the chosen 
messenger of God who will bring hope into every 
home and sweet charity to the sorely tried, that, above 

all, they must have Faith.” 

“Suddenly I heard a thundering in the distance, 

the earth quivered; I opened my eyes and beheld 
the prophecy fulfilled; fire was destroying the world 
To my fevered mind, in the place of the sentinel stoo 
Moses with the Ten Commandments. As the can¬ 
nons continued belching fire and smoke, it seemed 
as if the sparks effaced the First Commandment. 

“ ‘Thou shalt love the Lord, thy God, with thy 
whole heart and with thy whole soul, and thou shalt 

love thy neighbor as thyself. > 

(“Yet they were blaspheming God, sneering at his 

command and destroying their neighbors.) 

“ ‘Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord tny 

God in vain.’ . . ^ 

(“In his name they were committing atrocious 

crimes.) 


166 


I OBJECT 


“ ‘Remember thou keep holy the Sabbath Day.’ 

(“How many times has the Sabbath been profaned!) 

“ ‘Honor thy father and thy mother.’ 

(“They were making the father’s heart bleed, and 
tearing up the earth of the mother that nourished 
them!) 

“ 'Thou shalt not kill.’ 

(“And they were slaying tens of thousands.) 

“ ‘Thou shalt not commit adultery.’ 

(“And they reveled in licentiousness.) 

“ ‘Thou shalt not steal.’ 

(“They were pilfering God’s holy places.) 

“ ‘Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy 
neighbor.’ 

(“The false witness has disrupted the world.) 

“ ‘Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s goods.’ 

(“And they take their bread from them.) 

“ ‘Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife.’ 

(“They were not only coveting her but outraging 
her womanhood and sullying her offspring.) 

“And then suddenly it seemed that the Judgment 
Day had come. There was a great upheaval. Mt. 
Sec was no more; in the great bowl hollowed out by 
the ingenuity of the human mind seeking for the un¬ 
knowable, disobeying the injunction, ‘Seek not to 
know that which is beyond human ken,’ the monster 
which they themselves had raised destroyed them for 
all time. And with the fall of Mt. Sec disappeared 
Moses and the Ten Commandments and the world 
became chaos. The sky was dark, with the battle 
smoke ever mounting higher and higher.” 

“I heard voices. ‘Abraham, Abraham, where art 
thou?’ 

“ ‘Here am I.’ 



The Sacrifice of Abraham 
















































































































THE AWAKENING 


167 


“ ‘Bring me thy son, thine only son for sacrifice.’ 

“And Abraham went down into the valley and he 
got ready Isaac, his son, and placed upon his shoulders 
the wood to light for the sacrifice. And he brought 
Isaac and prepared to light the sacrificial fire, but 
when the Lord had tried Abraham and found that the 
divine love was stronger than earthly ties, he, in pity 
for the bleeding heart, sent the lamb.” 

“And upon the lamb he put the cross, marking 
him for the slaughter. Then I saw Abraham raise his 
hands and praise his God; on his brow was the Holy 
of Holies, and there I read again the Ten Command¬ 
ments.” 

“It seemed to me that in that lamb was the meek¬ 
ness of the human soul, and that Abraham was bless¬ 
ing the lamb for coming to take the place of his son, 
again fulfilling the promise of God that the seed of 
Abraham should live and from it spring forth a mighty 
nation.” 

“The cross which marked the lamb for slaughter 
was made of gold, and the ten jewels that studded it 
bound and held in place the law of Moses.” 

“Then it seemed to me that the great day had 
come. The lion had ceased to roar; the lion had laid 
down with the lamb—the tidings would bring ‘Peace 

on earth and good will to man. 

As Michael ceased speaking, the duchess and 
Elynor were gazing out into space, both of them con¬ 
juring up the magnificent spectacle that Michael had 

so vividly pictured. 

Elynor turned suddenly to him and flung herself 
on his breast. Michael held her in close embrace and 
finished the story of his kinship with the gods: 

“Yes, Elynor, my darling, my darling,—I tried very 


168 


I OBJECT 


hard to put you out of my thoughts in those dark days 
and was successful in doing so, when the love for 
truth and righteousness had fled; but on that battle¬ 
field, my dear, you stood over me as a guardian angel 
to minister to my soul—to whisper courage in my ear 
—to give me hope that I would again hold you in my 
arms and it was your beckoning me ever onward 
that gave me the strength to overcome all hardships 
that God knows were almost beyond human endur¬ 
ance.” 

“I learned out there that no matter what you did, 
or whom you loved, just so long as you left me a small 
corner of your heart, I would creep into it and be con¬ 
tent with the little space you gave me there. I learned 
many things on that battlefield, and one of the big 
things was that ‘God made life simple, and man made 
it complex.’ Conventional teachings had hedged you 
around and about so that it was absolutely impossible 
to get to the heart of you, and I feared to touch upon 
your religious beliefs, mortally afraid that in trying 
to know just what your beliefs were, I would lose you 
forever; and, therefore, I thought it best not to probe 
too deeply.” 

“There has been a tacit understanding from time 
immemorial that religious discussions are dangerous, 
but how much better it would have been if we had 
discussed the question fearlessly? Then and there, 
you and I would have made our decision. Are we to be 
Christians, or are we to be Jews? Which shall it be, 
Elynor, Christians or Jews?” 

Jews, Michael. I am a Jewess,” answered Elynor. 
Christians! In order to be Christians, we must first 
of all be Jews, or find a better gospel than the Ten 
Commandments. What do you call Christianity, 


THE AWAKENING 


169 


Michael? Since you left me I have studied both 
sides of the question, and find that Christ lived and 
died a Jew. Christians would have to deny Christ if 
they refused to believe that He was first of all, a 
good Jew. Christ did not preach a new doctrine; He 
wanted us all to live according to the old one, which 
was exemplified by His own life. What difference 
does it make, Michael? We are all created in God’s 
image. He will only recognize us as He sees Him¬ 
self reflected in us. Our saintly leaders and teach¬ 
ers will gather us in His house and there He will 
ask no questions, because He knows our path is long 
and filled with pitfalls, and we must be very, very 
careful and led by a very strong hand, to finally reach 
the goal that He planned. ‘Who shall ascend the 
hill of the Lord? And who shall stand in his holy 
place? He who hath a clean heart and clean 

hands.' ” 

“My precious girl!” Michael was weeping. “How 
perfect it all is—how marvelously the years have 
brought knowledge and understanding to you! I 
know the joy of your heart; I feel the throb of your 
heart. The spiritual essence is so closely interwoven 
that our protectress is a part of the whole. To her 
we owe our reunion. She preserved your youth, 
beauty, and truth, and, at last, gave it back into my 
keeping, and although she will be with us much of the 
time only in spirit in the future, she will always be 
part of the whole.” 

“Now, my dear ones, let me tell you what I visioned 
in a dream. When I finish, you will voice the senti¬ 
ment with me and wish that dreams were realities; 
that the prophesied days could be; that God’s king¬ 
dom on earth might be established, and that the 


170 


I OBJECT 


temple in Jerusalem will be rebuilt. I saw it all so 
clearly and so plainly.” 

“I was floating in space; day was dawning and a 
deep hush filled the atmosphere. I was hovering 
over the top of a mountain and suddenly I felt myself 
falling down—down—ever downward. I tried to 
grasp hold of something tangible; something by which 
I could save myself. I caught in my hand what 
seemed to be a dove—a white dove—and it be¬ 
came a thing of life at my touch. Then, in the 
great stillness, I heard birds singing. I grasped 
at a tree that was lying in my path and it stood 
erect and turned green at my touch, but in itself it was 
not sustaining. I clutched it—held it tightly—but 
the branch broke in my hand and only one olive leaf 
remained on it. I continued to descend lower and 
lower, and as I was beginning to fall, coming closer 
to earth, my body seemed to become a thing of sub¬ 
stance: it carried in its wake objects upon objects, 
which seemed to come to life only when I came in 
contact with them. Each moment my horror grew 
greater and greater, for on all sides of me, when I 
reached the earth, were thousands and thousands of 
serpents, from whose eyes flashed anger; whose 
tongues shot fiery venom, scorching me with their 
breath. I was terrified and when I awakened I was 
on the battlefield.” 

“The roar of the cannon had ceased—the field was 
strewn with dead and dying—the lurid flames of ex¬ 
ploded shells were darting all about me, and then I 
fell into a subconscious state and the spirit of the 
Lord descended upon me. My spirit was lifted up 
and set down in that hollow bowl. It was dawn and 
there was a weird, white light shining down, dis- 



THE AWAKENING 


171 


closing the valley of the dead. Upon it were strewn 
the bleaching bones of the innocent victims who had 
been hurled into eternity. God seemed to whisper 
to me, *‘Son of man, can these bones live?* 

“And I whispered, ‘O Lord, God, thou knowest.* 
“Again He said to me: 'Prophesy over these bones 
and say to them: O ye dry bones, hear the word of 
the Lord: behold, I will cause spirit to enter into you 
and ye shall live; and I will lay sinews upon you and 
cover you with skin and put breath in you and ye 
shall live.’ ” 

“So I prophesied as I was commanded; and there 
was a thundering noise and an earthquake; and the 
bones came together, bone to its bone. And I beheld 
and lo! there were sinews upon them and flesh came 
up and skin covered them above; but there was no 
breath in them.” 

“Then He said to me: ‘Prophesy ye the breath and, 
say: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe 
upon the slain that they may live.’ ” 

“So I prophesied as He commanded me and the 
breath came into them, and they lived and stood upon 
their feet, an exceeding great army.” 

“Then He said to me: ‘Son of man, these bones are 
the whole house of Israel. Behold, they say: “Our 
bones are dried, our hope is lost, we were clean cut 
off.” Therefore, prophesy and say to them: “Thus 
saith the Lord God: ‘Behold, I will open your graves 
of captivity and cause you to come out of them, O my 
people. I will bring you again into the land of Israel 
and ye shall know that I am the Lord, when I have 
opened your graves and caused you to come up out of 
them; and I will put my spirit into you and ye shall 


♦Ezekiel. 



172 


I OBJECT 


live; and I shall place you in your own land and ye 
shall acknowledge that I, the Lord, have spoken and 
performed it.’ ” 

“As the voice died away, that great army stood 
massed in a body, clothed in airy-white garments, 
holding high in their hands an olive branch, and above 
them hovered a dove with outstretched wings, and in 
his beak was floating the banner of peace. Slowly 
they began to march towards the promised land with 
banners unfurled.’’ 

“I awakened to consciousness for a moment and 
saw set in the firmament of blue where drifted white 
fleecy clouds tempering the rays of the sun. An 
aeroplane, with the stars and stripes keeping guard 
from the sky, looked down on Mt. Sec, in whose 
tender embrace lay ten thousand soldiers of France.” 

“Up the road came a caravan—God’s host of good 
Samaritans, and on that battlefield they separated 
the living from the dead and with tender care they 
lifted the wounded from the ground and carried them 
to the hospital nearby. On a slab of marble-white 
they wrote the epitaph of the dead, ‘Remember, this 
is sacred ground—walk reverently.’ ” 

The End. 





4 





















I 




